^BH^HP^^^ 

BY  THE  ETERNAL  * 


* 


LIBRARY 

UN!--     HTY  OF 
CALIFORNIA 

SAN  DIEGO 


x/ 


"By  the  Eternal" 

A  NOVEL 

By 

OPIE   READ 

Author  of 

"  The  Son  of  the  Swordmaker,"  "  Turkey-Egg  Grif 
fin,"  "The  Starbucks,"  "The  Harkriders," 
"  The  Jucklins,"  "  A  Kentucky  Colonel," 
"A  Tennessee  Judge,"  "The  Carpet 
bagger,"     "Old    Ebenezer," 
"  On  The  Suwanee  River," 
etc. 


SPECIAL  ILLUSTRATIONS 


CHICAGO 
LAIRD    &    LEE,   PUBLISHERS 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1906, 

By  WILLIAM  H.  LEE, 

in  the  office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at 
Washington,  D.  C. 

ALL    RIGHTS    RESERVED 


C~T*HEODORE  ROOSEVELT  once  re- 

4.  marked:  "I was  nevermore  compliment 
ed  than  when  an  old  man  called  me  a 
Jackson  Democrat"  And  to  that  president, 
who,  more  than  any  other,  has  influenced  legis 
lation  for  the  benefit,  not  only  of  his  own  people, 
but  for  all  mankind — to  this  exponent  of  true 
democracy — to  this  man,  not  of  the  dim  past 
but  of  the  vivid  present — to  Theodore  Roose 
velt  this  book  is  most  respectfully  dedicated  by 
the  author. 


PREFACE. 

ANDREW  JACKSON  was  not  only  one  of  the 
strongest  characters  in  American  history,  but 
one  of  the  most  striking  individuals  of  all  time. 
With  him  every  narrowness  was  a  farce  and  every 
prejudice  an  aggressive  weapon.  It  is  related  that 
once  when  he  spoke  of  appointing  an  obscure  man  to 
an  important  office,  a  member  of  the  cabinet  re 
marked:  "But  Mr.  President,  are  you  sure  that  he 
is  able?"  And  Jackson  answered:  "Sir,  all  of  my 
friends  are  able."  In  this  lay  his  character.  To  be  his 
friend  was  to  be  competent.  His  friends  were  right, 
mid  his  enemies  were  all  of  them  wrong.  But  there 
never  lived  a  man  of  more  integrity,  and  had  he 
continued  to  live,  a  war  between  the  North  and  the 
South  would  have  been  impossible.  His  duel  with 
Dickinson,  which  in  this  story  he  is  made  to  relate  in 
his  own  words,  was  one  of  the  most  famous  incidents 
in  all  the  history  of  the  "field  of  honor,"  and  upon 
good  authority  it  is  told  that  while  he  was  on  his  death 
bed,  a  minister  sought  to  evoke  from  him  an  expression 
of  remorse  concerning  the  death  of  that  popular  young 
man.  "General,"  said  the  preacher,  "in  looking  back 
over  your  past  life  is  there  anything  that  you  par 
ticularly  regret?" 


iv  "By  the  Eternal." 

"Yes,  there  is,"  he  answered.  Ah,  the  confession 
was  coming.  "I  regret  that  I  didn't  hang  John  C. 
Calhoun." 

I  was  born  not  far  from  the  "Hermitage,"  and  as  a 
boy  played  on  the  ground  where  many  of  old  An 
drew's  stirring  scenes  were  enacted.  I  have  listened 
to  the  talk  of  old  men  who  were  his  intimates — "able 
men,"  for  they  were  his  friends.  But  in  reading  the 
many  lives  of  Old  Hickory,  and  searching  closely  the 
many  unpublished  papers  now  in  possession  of  the 
Tennessee  Historical  Society,  I  failed  to  find  a  num 
ber  of  (<  facts"  which  I  have  since  discovered  m  my 
own  book.  The  Author. 


CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER.  PAGE 

I  The  Old  Fellow  With  The  Hairy  Jaw..     7 

II     They  Whispered 14 

III  His  Respect  For  the  Poets 21 

IV  The  Jolly  Ferryman   28 

V     At  the  Ball 33 

VI     Arabella  Crenshaw 38 

VII     With  Contempt 49 

VIII     A  Perfumed  Night  57 

IX     In  the  Interest  of  Another 65 

X     Carrying  the  Message 76 

XI     An  Understanding 82 

XII     Sneaked  Out  of  the  House 86 

XIII  An  Old  Acquaintance  from  the  Nursery  100 

XIV  He  Had  Something  to  Tell 106 

XV     At  the  Hermitage 113 

XVI  Mahone  Sees  More  Trouble  Coming. .  .129 

XVII     In  the  Buggy 145 

XVIII     She  Begged  Him  to  Let  Her  Stay 155 

XIX      Grew  Lighter  at  the  Window 170 

XX     I  Am  Denounced 176 

XXI     He  Did  Not  Regret 191 

XXII     Mrs.  Hilliard  and  Her  Academy 202 

XXIII  Just  Waiting 208 

XXIV  News  That  Was  Not  Good 225 

XXV     A  Taste  of  Fire 233 

XXVI     Had  Become  Soldiers ; 249 

XXVII  At  Horseshoe  Bend 261 

XXVIII  A  Message  from  Washington 275 

XXIX     Twenty-Five  Minutes   290 

XXX     Conclusion T 296 


" 


CHAPTEE  I. 

THE  OLD  FELLOW  WITH  THE  HAIRY  JAW. 

AS  SOON  as  I  had  mounted  the  stairway  of  that 
rude  inn,  I  felt  that  the  proprietor  would  at 
tempt  to  murder  me  before  morning.  I  was 
traveling,  horseback  from  Jonesboro  to  Nashville, 
Tennessee,  the  new  commonwealth  that  had  just  arisen 
out  of  the  troublous,  not  to  say  desperate  state  of 
Franklin.  The  country  was  wild.  Strong,  moral 
men,  unconscious  poets,  conscious  patriots,  with  senti 
ment  unto  death  in  their  powder  horns,  constituted 
the  backbone  of  the  recently  built  state.  But  the  very 
current  of  their  enterprise  drew  after  it  thieves  and 
desperadoes;  men  to  whom  human  blood  meant  no 
more  than  muddy  water. 

An  adventurous  youngster,  not  more  than  nineteen, 
late  from  an  old  field  pine  log  academy  in  North  Car 
olina,  I  had  set  forth  to  find  fortune,  with  a  vague 
idea  that  it  lay  somewhere  beyond  the  hills.  My 
parents  had  passed  away  some  years  before,  my  guar 
dian  had  recently  died,  and  now  my  possessions  con 
sisted  of  two  suits  of  clothes,  two  pistols  and  a  horse, 
bridle  and  saddle. 

It  was  near  the  close  of  a  day  in  summer.  From 
the  hillsides  came  the  sweet  and  ever  thrilling  breath 
of  June.  The  scenery  about  the  place  was  a  great 

7 


8  "By  the  Eternal." 

and  wasteful  picture,  with  here  and  there  a  violent 
dash  of  color. 

The  proprietor,  a  grizzled  old  man  in  short  sleeves, 
came  out  of  the  house,  when  I  had  dismounted,  grunt 
ed  a  sort  of  welcome,  gave  over  to  a  negro  the  care 
of  my  horse  and  led  the  way  into  the  house.  Taverns 
in  those  days  and  of  this  part  of  the  country  were 
rough  indeed.  This  one  was  the  roughest  of  its  class. 
It  was  constructed  of  oak  logs  with  the  bark  still  on 
fhein.  The  two  chimneys,  one  at  each  end,  were  built 
of  sticks  and  plastered  with  clay.  The  floor  impressed 
me,  not  on  account  of  its  rareness,  but  for  a  certain 
danger  it  held ;  it  was  laid  in  slabs  riven  from  logs  and 
was  so  thick  set  with  splinters  as  to  arouse  within  me 
a  painful  fear  for  my  new  calf -skin  boots. 

At  an  open  fire  place,  a  large,  red-haired  woman 
was  cooking.  She  turned  about,  pot-hooks  in  hand, 
nodded,  half  smiled,  revealing  a  tobacco-stained  tusk, 
and  apparently  dismissed  me  from  whM  I'  conceived 
to  be  her  red  mind. 

The  old  man  motioned  toward  a  bench.  ''Set 
down,"  said  he.  "How  fer  have  you  come  to-day?" 

"Forty  miles,  I  should  think." 

"Horse  ain't  blow'd  much.  Putty  good  cattle,  I 
take  it." 

"Blooded,"  I  answered  with  a  youngster's  van 
ity.  The  woman  looked  around  at  me.  The  man  nod 
ded  and  scratched  his  hairy  jaw.  I  put  my  two  pis 
tols,  in  holsters,  on  a  bed  and  sat  down.  As  yet  he 
had  not  aroused  my  suspicions. 

In  answer  to  an  inquiry  as  to  whether  he  had  any 
other  guests  for  the  night,  he  said:  "No,  you  hap 
pen  to  be  the  only  one.  The  increase  of  travel  has 
shut  me  out,  somewhat;  has  caused  the  buildin'  of 


The  Old  Fellow  With  the  Hairy  Jaw.  9 

another  house  about  two  miles  west  of  here.  But  I 
don't  reckon  I'll  starve.  There's  always  a  reward 
fer  the  fellow  that  works  hard  and  attends  to  his  own 
business.  Puss,  you'd  better  hurry  up  the  gentle 
man's  supper." 

"I'm  gettin'  it  as  fast  as  I  can,"  the  woman  re 
plied.  "Meat  don't  fry  no  faster  because  you're  anx 
ious.  ' ' 

' '  Hit  me  on  the  top  of  the  head, ' '  the  old  fellow  re 
joined.  "I  reckon  she's  got  more  truths  that  you 
ain't  a-lookin'  fer  than  any  woman  in  the  country. 
Goin'  out  to  the  new  settlements  to  start  in  prac- 
ticin '  law,  young  man  ? ' '  And  without  giving  me  time 
to  answer,  he  added:  "Yo'  supper's  ready." 

I  expected  him  to  join  me,  as  a  tin  plate,  a  knife  and 
fork  had  been  placed  opposite  to  those  of  their  rude 
kindred,  which  I  was  to  use,  but  he  did  not;  he  re 
mained  in  the  background,  talking  continuously.  The 
woman  stood  in  front  of  me,  replying  to  the  old  man 
when  I  failed  to  show  interest  in  what  he  was  say 
ing.  Once  she  addressed  me :  "  You  are  putty  young 
to  go  wanderin'  around  the  country  by  yourself;  but 
I  don't  reckon  anybody's  goin'  to  harm  you  very 
much.  There  was  a  time  when  this  country  along 
here  was  putty  tolor'bl  dangersome,  but  it  has  settled 
down  mightily  within  the  past  year.  Why,  it's 
mother's  milk  now  compared  with  what  it  was  when 
we  came  here.  Why  then,  in  that  late  day,  a  year 
ago  or  more,  folks  would  steal  from  you  every  time 
you  wan't  lookin'.  Stold  my  husband's  Bible  one 
day  right  out  of  his  saddle  bags,  they  did;  and  if  he 
hadn't  been  one  of  the  religiousest  men,  somebody 
would  'a'  got  a  good  cussin'.  And  Sam'l  could  cuss, 
too,  before  he  j'ined  the  church  and  became  an  ex- 


10  "By  the  Eternal." 

horter.  Have  some  more  of  that  bread.  It  ain't  right 
good  fer  there  ain't  no  mill  near  here  and  we  have  to 
beat  the  corn  into  meal  with  a  hominy  pess'le.  Sam'l, 
ain't  you  goin'  to  eat  a  bite  with  the  young  gentle 
man?" 

"Wall,  don't  mind  if  I  do,"  "Sam'l"  answered; 
and  coming  forward,  he  took  a  seat  opposite  me. 

Through  the  window  I  could  see  the  dusk-deepening 
flush  of  the  sun,  now  sunk  beyond  the  hills.  The 
evening  was  made  sweetly  melancholy  with  the  songs 
of  birds ;  and  from  some  distant  valley  came  the  sad 
dest  of  all  love-calls,  the  notes  of  the  whippoorwill. 
In  the  sunrise,  when  the  dew  was  sparkling,  in  the 
noon-tide  when  squirrels  reposed  dreamily  in  the 
grateful  shade,  I  had  mused  with  not  much  concern 
upon  what  I  was  to  do  for  a  living,  believing,  in  these 
roseate  hours  of  Nature's  promise,  that  the  very 
brightness  of  the  world  was  a  prediction  of  for 
tune.  But  in  the  sad,  bird-choired,  dun  light  of  the 
evening,  my  thoughts,  like  winged  things,  but  with 
no  songs  in  them,  flapped  and  fell  against  the  dark 
curtains  of  the  Future.  So  now  it  was  that  I  sat  mute, 
thinking  in  soberest  mood ;  and  in  this  life,  no  mood  is 
more  serious  than  some  of  those  that  fall  upon  us  in 
youth,  before  we  have  climbed  many  of  the  hills,  be 
fore  many  of  the  valleys  have  been  crossed. 

"You  ain't  eatin'  much,"  said  the  old  man.  "Help 
yourself,  here,  to  some  more  of  the  fry.  If  you  could 
stay  with  us  a  day  or  two  we  could  git  you  out  of 
the  dumps  that  you  'pear  to  be  fallin'  into.  Cheer  up 
fer  you'll  find  everything  over  in  the  settlements  all 
right,  I  reckon ;  and  then  you  can  sail  right  along,  and 
when  you're  old  enough,  be  elected  a  Justice  of  the 
Peace — " 


The  Old  Fellow  With  the  Hairy  Jaw.          11 

"He's  mighty  nigh  old  enough  fer  a  constable 
now, ' '  the  woman  spoke  up ;  and  thus  having  flattered 
me  she  passed  the  bread. 

"I  was  a  constable  once  in  North  Caroliny,"  said 
the  old  man.  "But  I  had  to  levy  on  property  that 
belonged  to  poor  folks,  and  I  never  could  stand  that 
sort  of  business ;  so  I  give  it  up  and  came  out  here  and 
started  a  hotel,  a  feedin'  of  folks  ruther  than  a  takin' 
of  bread  out  of  their  mouths.  Well,  Puss,  he  'pears 
to  have  eat  enough;  and  I  reckon  you  might  as  well 
clear  away  the  things." 

There  were  no  things  to  be  cleared  away  except  to 
remove  a  few  tin  plates ;  and  this  she  did  with  a  sweep 
of  her  great,  red  hand.  Then  she  lighted  an  earthen 
lamp,  with  a  rag  wick,  placed  it  upon  the  mantelpiece, 
sat  down  in  a  corner  and  began  her  evening's  work, 
carding  cotton  batts.  With  a  shovel,  the  old  man  cov 
ered  up  the  fire,  patting  the  ashes,  like  a  sexton  pat 
ting  a  grave,  talking  the  while  of  the  great  improve 
ment  that  had  taken  place  in  the  country  since  his 
arrival.  On  the  mantel  shelf  a  battered  old  clock, 
with  only  the  hour  hand  to  mark  the  time,  was  ticking, 
louder,  now  that  the  birds  had  hushed. 

I  glanced  at  this  ignorer  of  moments  and  the  un 
certain  teller  of  the  hours,  and  the  old  man  said: 
"We  lost  one  of  the  hands  as  we  were  movin'  out 
here  and  I  ain't  had  time  to  whittle  out  another  one. 
Sorter  looks  like  a  waste  of  time,  don't  it?"  And 
dropping  his  chin  upon  his  hairy  chest  he  laughed. 
"Wife  there,  has  sorter  stirred  me  up  about  it  a  time 
or  two,  but  I  always  tell  her  we  can  do  without  an 
other  hand  ourselves  and  apologize  when  we've  got 
company.  Young  feller,  you  look  like  you  might  be 
sleepy.  Yo '  bed 's  ready  fer  you  up  stairs. ' '  He  nod- 


12  "By  the  Eternal." 

ded  toward  a  ladder  that  led  to  the  loft.  "You  won't 
find  no  gold  candlesticks  up  there,  but  you  can  take 
a  hog-fat  lamp,  and  that  will  sorter  skeer  off  the 
darkness.  Puss,  light  tuther  lamp  fer  him,  will  you? 
We  may  economize  as  to  the  hands  of  a  clock,  but 
when  it  comes  to  lamps,  why  we  are  as  wasteful  as— 
now  what  do  they  call  him?  Hearn  a  preacher  talk 
about  him  not  long  ago.  Some  sort  of  a  son. ' ' 

"Prodigal  son,"  I  answered  out  of  my  limited  store 
of  Scriptural  learning. 

"You  hit  it  on  the  head,  sir.  Why,  you're  edu 
cated  right  up  to  the  handle,  ain't  you?" 

The  woman  lighted  another  lamp  and  gave  it  to 
me,  and  turning  to  the  bed  I  took  up  my  pistols. 

"I  can  help  you  up  with  'em  if  they're  too  heavy 
fer  you,"  the  old  man  laughed. 

"I  can  manage  them,"  I  answered,  throwing  the 
holsters  over  one  shoulder,  dividing  them  like  a  pair 
of  saddle  bags.  Bidding  my  host  and  his  wife  good 
night,  I  climbed  the  ladder  to  the  room  above.  Then 
it  was,  and  I  couldn  't  have  told  exactly  why,  that  the 
suspicion  of  murder  crossed  my  mind.  A  shudder 
crept  over  me;  a  cold  shudder,  just  alive  enough  to 
creep,  frightening  me  with  paralytic  numbness.  In 
the  middle  of  the  room  was  a  legged  slab  intended  to 
serve  as  a  table,  and  placing  the  lamp  upon  it  I  looked 
about  me.  In  one  corner  was  a  bed,  a  mere  heap  of 
straw  spread  over  with  a  quilt.  Near  the  bed  was  a 
low  stool,  and  upon  it  I  sat  down  to  think.  The  pis 
tols  in  the  holsters  were  still  across  my  shoulder. 
Suddenly  the  scene  at  the  supper  table  arose  before 
me.  Why  had  the  old  man  placed  the  bench  so  that  I 
should  sit  with  my  eyes  turned  from  the  pistols  on  the 
bed?  Why  had  he  remained  so  long  behind  me,  talk- 


The  Old  Fellow  With  the  Hairy  Jaw.          13 

ing  incessantly?  And  then,  when  he  became  silent, 
why  had  his  wife  sought  so  eagerly  to  seize  upon  my 
attention  and  to  hold  it? 

I  took  the  pistols  out  of  the  holsters  and  examined 
the  priming.  It  had  not  been  disturbed.  But  with 
ramrod  I  sounded  the  barrels.  The  powder  and  balls 
had  been  withdrawn.  This  was  a  complete  confirma 
tion  of  my  fears.  As  quickly  as  possible  I  reloaded 
the  weapons.  Then,  moving  the  stool  over  into  an 
other  corner,  as  far  as  I  could  get  from  the  hole  up 
through  which  the  ladder  led,  I  put  out  the  light,  sat 
down  and  waited. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THEY  WHISPERED. 

TO  WAIT  was  the  utmost  extent  of  possible  en 
terprise.  There  was  no  window,  no  way  to  get 
out;  not  even  through  the  roof,  for  I  had  no 
ticed  from  the  outside,  that  the  riven  boards 
that  composed  it  were  weighted  down  with  heavy 
logs.  So,  to  wait  was  all  that  I  could  do. 
In  the  floor  were  large  cracks  and  up  through 
them  streaked  the  yellow  light.  The  door  below 
opened  and  closed.  I  could  not  through  any  of  the 
cracks  command  a  full  view  of  what  was  taking  place, 
but  I  fancied  that  the  old  man  had  looked  out  to  make 
sure  as  to  whether  any  traveler  was  passing  along  the 
road.  Suddenly,  I  heard  whispering,  and  placing  my 
ear  close  to  a  crack,  I  had  no  difficulty  in  catching 
not  only  the  import  but  the  minutest  accents  of  the 
words.  "If  you  would  make  a  crowd  hear,  whisper," 
I  once  heard  an  orator  say ;  and  now  I  thought  of  it, 
as  I  lay  with  my  ear  against  the  floor.  Toward  cau 
tion  on  their  part  there  seemed  to  be  not  much  of  an 
effort.  It  may  be  easier  to  gauge  the  carrying  force 
of  a  shout  than  of  a  whisper. 

"There's  no  other  way  out  of  it,"  came  from  the 
old  man.  I  could  distinguish  his  whisper  though  I 
had  never  heard  it  before,  but  in  it  were  notes  iden 
tical  with  his  wheezy  laugh.  "No  other  possible  way. 
There  won't  be  no  blood  to  speak  of.  I'll  just  finish 
him  with  a  stick  of  wood." 

14 


They  Whispered.  15 

"But  he's  so  young,"  the  woman  whispered. 

"Wall,  the  younger  they  are  the  better  prepared 
they  are  to  go,  I  can  tell  you  that.  What  are  you  so 
squeamish  about  now  ?  Ain  't  gone  off  in  a  corner  and 
'f  essed  religion  when  I  wan 't  a  lookin ',  I  hope.  Wan 't 
you  sent  to  the  penitentiary  fer  life  in  North  Caroliny 
for  murder,  and  didn't  we  both  escape  from  there  to 
gether,  as  man  and  wife  should?" 

"I  ain't  squeamish  and  I  ain't  weakening "  the 
Avoman  answered.  "I  jist  want  to  be  eareful,  that's 
all." 

"Careful!"  he  repeated.  "I'm  goin'  to  be  jist  as 
careful  as  there's  any  use  of  bein'.  All  we've  got  to 
do  after  the  job's  done  is  to  drag  him  off  into  the 
woods  some  whar,  and  when  he's  found,  why  it's  the 
Indians  that  fixed  him.  There  ain't  such  a  hoss  been 
along  here  in  many  a  day,"  he  added  after  a  short 
pause.  "And  it  ain't  right  to  let  him  pass  on  and 
be  rid  around  useless.  A  man's  conscience  will  tell 
him,  if  he  gives  it  half  a  chance,  that  a  hoss  ought 
to  be  put  to  good  use. ' ' 

' '  Is  that  stick  you  've  got  there  heavy  enough  ? ' '  she 
inquired;  and  the  old  man  answered :  "Heavy  enough 
to  maul  rails  with  and  I  reckon  it  ought  to  do  for 
him." 

"But  don't  you  hate  to  do  it,  Sam'l — and  at  yo' 


' '  Weakenin '  ag  'in,  are  you  ?  What 's  age  got  to  do 
with  it  ?  Nothin ',  except  to  make  a  man  set  his  gums 
instead  of  his  teeth.  And  when  a  man  sets  his  gums, 
I  tell  you  he 's  got  it  in  fer  natur '  right  thar  and  then. 
When  a  man  has  lived  beyond  his  teeth,  life  ain  't  ful 
filled  many  of  it 's  promises,  I  '11  tell  you  that. ' ' 

"You  ought  to  have  kept  on  preachin',  Sam'l." 


IQ  "By  the  Eternal." 

"I  would  if  they  hadn't  proved  it  on  me  that  I 
stol'd  the  hoss  and  started  me  down  hill  when  I  was 
tryin'  to  climb  up.  But  there  ain't  no  use  for  you  to 
argy  with  me  or  fer  me  to  argy  with  myself, 
fact  is  that  natur'  made  me  a  rascal  and  it  ain't  worth 
while  to  try  to  stand  in  her  way." 

Peering  down  through  the  crack  I  could  now  see 
him,  standing  with  his  back  toward,  the  fire-place, 
with  the  bludgeon  in  his  hand.  The  lamp,  on  the 
mantel-shelf,  to  the  left,  shed  light  upon  his  counte 
nance.  It  looked  like  an  indictment  for  murder  drawn 
in  red.  Civilization  was  marching,  with  its  rifle,  its 
plow  and  its  prayer  book,  but  in  that  day,  as  it  may 
be  on  the  day  now  most  distant,  depravity  skulked  in 
its  train. 

If  I  could  find  a  place  broad  enough  in  the  crack- 
no,  he  moved,  and  I  could  not  shoot  him. 

"Ain't  you  goin'  to  take  the  light?"  the  woman 
'inquired.  "It's  dark  up  there." 
,  "No,  I  can  see  well  enough.  The  moon  is  shinin' 
through  the  chinks.  You  can  bring  the  light  when  I 
call  fer  it.  I  don't  think  there's  any  body  else  comin' 
along  to-night,  and  we  better  have  it  over  with.  You 
might  as  well  hold  the  light  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs, 
I  reckon." 

A  shifting  of  shadows  told  me  that  she  had  taken 
down  the  lamp  and  was  preparing  to  obey  him.  I 
heard  them  moving  about ;  up  through  the  hole  in  the 
floor,  over  against  the  wall,  there  came  a  yellow  light, 
thick,  like  stagnant  water,  not  dispelling  the  dark 
ness,  but  showing  where  it  lay.  I  heard  his  boot  strike 
the  ladder.  The  light  thickened;  he  was  ascending, 
obscuring  it.  With  pistol  leveled,  I  waited.  There 
was  light  enough  to  direct  my  aim.  His  death  was 


WITH    PISTOL    LEVELED,    I    WAITED. 


They  Whispered.  17 

sure.  But  suddenly  he  seemed  to  hesitate,  and  then 
I  heard  him  say :  ' '  Take  away  the  light.  It  will  inter 
fere  with  the  moon." 

The  yellow  flood  sank  down.  Now  all  was  dark, 
save  for  the  moon-ribbons,  streaming  through  the 
"chinks"  of  the  wall;  but  to  the  left  of  the  stairway, 
they  offered  no  advantage  to  my  pistol;  and  now  I 
must  estimate  rather  than  aim.  I  could  hear  the  tick 
ing  of  that  old,  one-handed  clock.  Was  it  a  mile  up 
the  stairs?  If  but  a  moonbeam  would  pierce  that 
gloom!  Were  heaven-sent  rays  ever  so  unkind  be 
fore?  Was  that  a  deeper  darkness  over  there?  The 
pistol  flashed,  fired ;  and  with  the  pent  up  violence  of 
the  shock  my  very  temples  seemed  to  burst.  And 
then  a  silence,  as  short  as  the  pause  between  the  draw 
ing  of  a  long  breath  and  the  escape  of  a  sigh;  and 
then,  a  cry  as  something  heavily  struck  the  floor  be 
low. 

"Sam'l  are  you  hurt?" 

The  answer  was  a  roar  that  denied  my  victory: 
' '  Fetch  me  the  blunderbuss  and  I  '11  blow  him  through 
the  roof!" 

At  this  moment  there  came  a  furious  knocking  at 
the  door.  Out  went  the  light. 

"Open  this  door,"  a  voice  demanded.  All  was 
silent  within. 

"Strike  that  light  again  and  open  this  door." 

"There's  no  other  way,"  said  the  old  man  in  his 
penetrating  whisper,  "I've  hit  on  something."  And 
then  in  a  loud  voice  he  answered  the  summons :  ' '  All 
right,  in  a  minute.  It  will  take  some  time  to  strike 
the  light  fer  the  fire  has  to  be  uncovered  and  there 
ain't  no  blaze." 

"Be  as  quick  as  you  can." 


18  "By  the  Eternal" 

"Yes,  sir,  whoever  you  are,  and  I  want  to  say  that 
I'm  mighty  glad  you've  come.  We've  trapped  a  rob 
ber  upstairs  and  we'll  have  to  shoot  him.  Puss,  can't 
you  git  that  light?" 

I  heard  the  old  woman  blowing  at  the  fire.  The 
feeble  light  crept  through  the  darkness.  The  door 
was  opened.  There  seemed  to  be  several  men  with 
out.  "You  are  under  arrest!"  I  heard  some  one  ex 
claim;  and  then  it  was  the  old  man's  voice  that  made 
answer. 

"What  fer,  gentlemen?  Because  a  robbber  gits  into 
my  room  up  stairs  and  shoots  at  me?  That's  a  putty 
come  off." 

And  then  a  voice  which  I  had  not  heard  before 
spoke  up.  "Oh,  we  know  you  well  enough,  Brother 
Ferguson;  we've  got  your  pedigree,  and  we  know 
where  your  company  is  most  desired — over  in  the 
North  Carolina  penitentiary;  and  as  I  am  an  of 
ficer  of  that  state,  and  have  a  warrant  for  you,  I'll 
see  that  you  get  back  there  safe  enough.  Put  on 
the  irons,  Jim." 

"By  the  Eternal,  not  on  the  woman,"  spoke  up 
the  man  whose  voice  had  first  demanded  admission. 

"All  right,  Judge,  but  she's  a  bad  one." 

"No  matter  how  bad,  sir,  but  still  a  woman,  and 
therefore  shall  be  treated  with  all  reasonable  consider 
ation.  But  we  are  forgetting  the  old  man's  robber 
up  stairs." 

It  did  not  require  even  a  second  hint  to  extract 
me  from  that  dark  loft ;  and  when  I  had  come  down, 
a  tall,  grave  man  stepped  forward,  looked  at  me. 
smiled  slightly  and  said:  "A  mere  boy.  Young 
man,  I  congratulate  you  upon  your  determined  de 
fense — and  I  will  not  add,  upon  the  luckiness  of  our 


They  Whispered.  19 

arrival,  for  your  own  bravery  would  have  saved 
you,  sir." 

I  thanked  him,  and  then  in  the  dim  light  strove  to 
get  a  good  view  of  his  features,  but  his  countenance 
was  as  a  page  in  ^Eschylus  to  one  who  did  not  know 
the  text.  In  a  moment,  though,  I  was  fascinated. 
His  voice  thrilled  me.  I  felt  that  I  would  follow  him 
to  the  frontier  of  any  desperate  measure;  and  in  his 
slight  smile,  which  made  his  face  really  graver  than 
it  was  before,  there  was  a  something,  a  light,  a  more 
than  a  light,  the  dazzle  of  a  great  soul. 

There  were  two  other  men  in  the  room,  and  having 
merely  nodded  to  me,  as  if  I  were  one  of  the  many 
necessary  incidents  that  fell  to  their  lives,  they  were 
soon  busy  with  ironing  the  inn-keeper.  The  old 
woman  stood  by,  wailing. 

"We  didn't  intend  to  hurt  you,"  she  said  to  me. 
' '  We  had  just  been  talking  about  what  a  nice  boy  you 
were,  and  Sam  '1  was  goin '  up  to  see  if  everything  was 
all  right  in  the  room,  and  you  shot  at  him,  and  then 
we  thought  you  were  a  robber.  Didn't  we,  Sam'l?" 

' '  Shut  up  ! ' '  the  old  man  shouted. 

' '  That  is  a  poor  recompense  to  her  for  all  her  fidel 
ity  to  you,  you  infernal  old  brute,"  said  the  tall, 
grave  gentleman.  "No  matter  how  deep  in  crime  she 
may  be,  she  is  better  than  you,  and  deserving  of  your 
respect.  Madam,  will  you  go  along  without  any 
trouble?  I  should  hate  to  see  them  handcuff  you. 
But  you  must  promise  to  behave  yourself." 

Most  fervently  she  promised  that  she  would.  H* 
bowed  to  her,  and  speaking  to  one  of  the  officers,  cau 
tioned  him  to  treat  her  kindly.  Then  he  addressed 
himself  to  me. 


20  "By  the  Eternal" 

"Young  man,  there  is  a  place  a  few  miles  further 
on,  where  we  may  find  accommodations.  If  you  wish 
it,  you  may  come  with  me." 

I  thanked  him  and  went  on  the  keen  bound  to 
saddle  my  horse.  The  lustiest  of  shouting  failed  to 
draw  the  negro  from  his  hiding  place.  But  the  stable 
door  was  not  locked,  and  soon  I  was  ready  to  take 
the  road.  My  companion  was  splendidly  mounted. 
For  a  time  we  proceeded  swiftly,  in  silence.  I  was 
loth  to  break  in  upon  his  reserve.  But  curiosity  was 
riding  me  with  a  sharper  spur  than  the  one  bound  to 
my  own  heel,  and  so  I  was  prodded  into  inquiring 
his  name. 

"Andrew  Jackson,"  he  answered;  and  I  asked  if 
he  would  permit  me  to  shake  hands  with  him,  there  in 
the  forest,  with  the  moon  sparkling  upon  us.  How 
often  has  my  mind  flown  back  to  the  scene,  the  mo 
ment  of  that  hand-grasp !  And  I  can  see  him  now  as 
he  sat  on  his  horse,  dark  majesty,  fated  scourger  of 
men  who  had  never  known  defeat — men  who  were  to 
over-topple  Bonaparte  and  send  him  to  Elba — Pack- 
enbfim's  Nemesis  speeding  through  the  wild. 

He  was  not  unknown.  I  had  heard  of  him,  of  his 
bravery  as  an  Indian  fighter,  and  of  his  term  in 
Congress  at  Philadelphia,  first  representative  from 
the  state  of  Tennessee.  But  while  his  reputation  laid 
just  claim  upon  my  admiration,  yet  that  alone  did 
not  excite  my  wonder.  I  had  seen  Congressmen  in 
North  Carolina,  at  my  father's  house — had  seen  them 
drunk  at  our  table ;  and  as  for  bravery  verging  upon 
rashness,  it  was  almost  as  common  as  caution  is  now. 
It  was  the  man  himself,  name  unknown,  that  laid 
strange  hold  upon  me.  Something  told  me  that  to 
know  him  was  to  be  a  part  of  history. 


CHAPTER  III. 

HIS  RESPECT  FOR  THE  POETS. 

AT  AN  inn  not  a  great  distance  along  the  road 
toward  the  west,  we  found  what  was  in  that 
day  "ample  accommodations,"  which  meant 
not  more  than  two  in  a  bed.  In  consideration  of  the 
fact  that  Jackson  had  served  a  term  in  Congress,  he 
was  given  a  bed  alone ;  and,  commenting  upon  it,  the 
"circuit  rider"  who  had  been  assigned  to  share  a 
bunk  with  me,  delivered  this  impressive  homily: 
"Just  see  what  comes  to  a  man  who  accomplishes 
something  in  this  life.  And  no  wonder  there  is  such 
incentive  to  be  ambitious  when  fame  is  attended  by 
such  reward." 

"Fame  not  only  lies  alone  but  often  stands  alone," 
I  ventured  to  remark. 

"Yes,"  he  agreed  with  me,  "fame  is  lonesomeness, 
I  should  think.  Now,  if  I  were  a  bishop — but  I  won 't 
permit  myself  to  be  ambitious.  My  aim  is  to  persuade 
men  from  noisy  strife  in  the  blazing  light  of  the 
devil's  affairs,  and  to  induce  them  in  quiet,  to  think 
upon  their  soul's  salvation.  That  old  man  and  his 
wife  had  you  in  a  close  place.  For  a  long  time  they 
have  been  suspected.  Recently,  evidence  became 
strong  enough,  and  so  officers  came  with  warrants 
aud  in  the  nick  of  time,  too,  for  you,  it  would  seem. 
Jackson  didn't  have  anything  to  do  legally  with  their 
arrest,  but  happening  to  fall  in  with  the  officers,  he 
couldn't  keep  out  of  it — he  never  can.  I  suppose  he 

21 


22  "By  the  Eternal." 

could  keep  out  of  a  fight,  but  I  don't  believe  he  ever 
tried.  Among  my  different  charges  is  a  meeting 
house  at  Black  Creek.  Not  long  ago,  I  was  holding 
services  there,  and  was  pleased  to  see  him  enter  the 
room  and  become  a  part  of  my  congregation.  I  was 
selfish  enough  to  hope  that  I  might  be  the  means  of 
his  conversion.  He's  a  great  man,  it  is  true  enough, 
but  still  he  is  a  wanderer  from  the  fold — fights  chick 
ens  and  occasionally  knocks  down  a  man  who  does 
not  happen  to  agree  with  him." 

"If  he'd  been  meeker,  we  might  never  have  heard 
of  him,"  said  I;  and  my  companion,  turning  over, 
further  away  from  me,  thus  replied: 

"It  would  seem  that  you  must  have  seen,  yea, 
looked  into  that  infamous  book  by  Thomas  Paine.  But 
no  matter,  I  will  proceed  with  what  I  was  going  to 
relate.  In  the  neighborhood,  as  might  have  been  ex 
pected,  there  was  a  very  rough  element,  known  as  the 
Simmon's  gang.  They  had  made  their  boasts  against 
me — said  that  they  were  going  to  break  up  my  meet- 
iug.  Not  knowing  any  of  them  by  sight,  I  had  no 
means  of  determining  whether  or  not  they  were  in 
the  congregation.  But  I  wasn't  long  in  doubt,  for  I 
hadn't  more  than  taken  my  text  when  a  clay  ball 
came  whizzing  past  my  head.  Pretending  not  to 
have  noticed  it,  I  proceeded.  Pretty  soon  there  sped 
another  one,  and  with  better  aim.  It  struck  me  square 
upon  the  bosom  of  my  white  shirt,  the  only  vanity  I 
possessed,  and  the  only  white  shirt,  too,  for  that  mat 
ter.  A  laugh  broke  out.  Oh,  any  of  them  would 
rather  have  seen  a  fight  than  to  have  heard  a  sermon. 
The  fight  wasn't  long  in  coming.  I  heard  some  one 
exclaim  i  "By  the  Eternal!"  Then  I  saw  Jackson 
in  among  a  number  of  rough  men,  cracking  their 


His  Respect  for  the  Poets.  23 

heads  with  a  cane,  right  and  left.  And  when  they 
made  a  show  of  resistance  he  whipped  out  his  knife, 
and  not  only  quelled  them,  but  compelled  them  to 
come  forward,  take  a  seat  on  the  front  bench  and 
listen  attentively  to  my  sermon. ' ' 

"That  not  only  aroused  your  gratitude  but  must 
have  challenged  your  admiration,"  said  I,  with  the 
picture  of  the  fight  in  my  mind. 

"Yes,  but  it  had  a  sad  termination.  Jackson 
spoiled  it  all  by  a  subsequent  action.  That  very 
afternoon,  I  saw  him  with  a  game-cock  under  his  arm 
going  over  the  creek  to  have  a  fight.  But  I  repri 
manded  him." 

* '  How  did  he  take  it  ? "  I  inquired. 

"With  a  slight  inclination  of  the  head  and  with 
his  peculiar  half  smile.  This  attitude  led  me  to  be 
lieve  that  he  was  repentant;  but  he  spoiled  that,  too, 
and  by  a  very  irreverant  remark.  'Parson,'  said  he, 
'if  the  Lord  had  made  you  as  game  as  this  bird,  I 
reckon  you  could  preach  most  anywhere.'  That  was 
no  way  to  talk  to  me. ' ' 

"But  there  was  truth  in  it,"  said  I;  and  flouncing 
still  farther  away  from  me  he  declared  with  much 
irritation :  ' '  Young  sir,  that  is  no  way  to  talk  to  me. 
I  bid  you  good  night. ' ' 

Early  on  the  following  day,  Jackson  and  I  set  forth 
on  our  journey  to  Nashville.  He  bade  me  good  morn 
ing,  and  said  nothing  more  for  some  time,  and  then 
he  remarked: 

"I  like  your  modesty,  sir." 

Not  aware  that  I  was  modest  this  surprised  me. 
But  I  made  no  denial;  I  bowed  and  waited  for  him 
to  explain.  He  did. 

"Last  night  when  you  inquired  my  name,  you  did 


24  "By  the  Eternal" 

not  give  me  your  own.  That  was  not  like  the  youth 
of  the  present  day,  sir;  it  was  more  like  the  self -sup 
pression  of  a  day  that  has  gone.  Now,  sir,  on  this 
impudent  rim  of  experimental  time,  a  young  fellow  is 
likely  to  shout  his  own  name  the  moment  he  sees  you, 
believing  that  you  cannot  help  but  find  interest  in  it. 
What  is  your  name  ? ' ' 

"Richard  Staggs,  sir." 

"Staggs,  eh?     Related  to  Potter  Staggs?" 

"He  was  my  father." 

"Ah;  you  say  he  was  your  father.     Dead?" 

"Yes,  sir,  both  my  mother  and  father — were 
drowned  while  crossing  a  river  nearly  five  years 
ago." 

' '  I  am  sorry.  I  remember  him — he  was  kind  to  me. 
Years  ago  when  I  was  a  boy,  I  stopped  at  his  house — 
bleeding,  sir.  Your  father  was  very  young,  had  just 
been  married." 

"You  say  you  were  bleeding." 

"I  was.  A  British  officer  had  ordered  me  to  clean 
his  boots;  and,  by  the  Eternal,  I  told  him  that  I 
would  see  him  in  hell  first.  With  that  he  came  down 
upon  me  with  his  sword.  I  warded  off  the  blow,  but 
.my  hand  and  my  head  were  cut.  Your  father  dressed 
the  wound — cared  for  me  until  I  was  able  to  go  on 
my  way.  And  now,  tell  me,  what  is  it  your  intention 
to  do  in  Nashville?" 

"  It  is  my  wish  to  be  a  part  of  that  new  community. 
But  as  to  just  what  sort  of  a  part  I  don't  know.  It 
was  my  father's  aim,  as  I  have  understood,  and  I 
know  that  it  was  the  aim  of  my  guardian,  who  died 
recently,  that  I  should  be  put  to  the  law,  and  with 
that  end  in  view  I  went  to  school." 

"And   you  think  that   now   you   have   education 


His  Respect  for  the  Poets.  25 

enough  to  enable  you  to  become  a  good  lawyer,  I  sup 
pose.  But  before  you  answer,  let  me  assure  you  that 
I  have  never  seen  a  young  man  go  into  study  of  the 
law  with  education  enough.  There  is  in  Nashville  a 
comparatively  new  institution  and  a  very  worthy  one, 
known  as  the  Davidson  Academy.  I  am  one  of  the 
trustees  of  it,  and  I  advise  you  to  go  there  for  at 
least  one  term  before  beginning  the  study  of  the  law. 
Do  not  urge,  sir,  that  you  are  not  able  financially.  I 
will  arrange  that  part  of  it.  So  that  is  settled. 
Young  man,  it  has  always  been  the  keenest  grief  of 
my  life  that  I  was  not  schooled  so  as  to  read  of  the 
great  Greek  and  Latin  heroes  in  the  language  in 
which  their  exploits  were  first  recorded.  Years  ago, 
some  one  gave  me  Chapman's  Homer,  and  when  I 
read  it,  I  wept  bitterly  because  I  could  not  read  the 
original;  and  I  struggled  hard  to  acquaint  myself 
with  that  knowledge,  but  the  time  was  passed,  my 
mind  was  too  rebellious.  Have  you  read  the  great 
poets  in  the  original,  sir?" 

I  answered  that  I  had,  after  a  perfunctory  fashion, 
and  ventured  to  add  that  so  far  as  I  was  able  to  judge, 
the  poets  would  take  their  own  time  in  helping  me  to 
ward  any  achievement  in  the  practice  of  the  law.  To 
ward  me  he  turned  that  strangely  grave  face ;  and  he 
was  in  the  sunlight  now,  but  still  a  dark  majesty.  In 
his  countenance  there  was  nothing  born  of  darkness 
— his  eyes  seemed  gray,  shooting  blue  spears  of  light ; 
his  hair,  borrowing  of  the  future,  had  begun  slightly 
to  turn  gray,  and  yet  to  me  a  general  view  of  him 
was  dark.  It  must  have  been  his  avenging  spirit 
that  had  taken  hold  upon  my  senses. 

"Everything  that  teaches  you  human  nature  leads 
you  to  achievement  in  the  law,"  he  said.  "Poetry 


26  "By  the  Eternal" 

is  the  blossom  in  the  forest  of  human  nature.  Mark 
me,  sir,  I  didn't  say  rhyme;  I  said  poetry." 

"In  your  family,  beyond  the  seas,  there  must  have 
been  poets,"  I  suggested,  and  thus  he  answered,  after 
riding  for  a  time  in  silence:  "In  my  family  there 
has  always  been  rebels  against  oppressive  authority, 
and  the  poet  may  be  the  lawless  champion  of  the  hu 
man  heart."  Suddenly  he  broke  off:  "But  in 
America,  our  poetry  is  not  gentle  measures,  but  heavy 
blows.  Other  countries  may  have  reached  the  state 
where  they  may  muse,  but  with  us,  it's — fight.  And 
a  man  is  but  a  part  of  the  country;  and  to  do  any 
thing — he  must  fight.  If  a  man  isn't  willing  at  all 
times  to  die  for  what  he  believes  to  be  right,  then  he  is 
not  fit  to  live.  Honesty,  not  backed  by  courage,  is 
but  a  one-legged  virtue.  A  brave  man  will  become 
honest  eventually,  if  you  give  him  a  chance. ' ' 

I  might  not  have  agreed  with  him  in  all  that  he 
said,  but  I  took  no  issue;  I  listened. 

"If  you  would  be  a  leader,  you  must  inspire  not 
love,  but  admiration  tinctured  with  fear.  We  take 
persuasive  issue  with  one  we  love;  we  are  bold  to 
tell  him  he  is  wrong,  but  if  we  fear  him,  we  wait, 
half  believing  that  he  may  be  right." 

Was  he  experimenting  with  himself  or  with  me? 
I  have  known  men,  great  men,  too,  that  experimented 
with  themselves,  seeking  to  draw  themselves  out,  as  it 
were,  and  sometimes  I  have  fancied  that  they  won 
dered  as  to  what  they  might  say  next.  No  man  lives 
up  to  or  down  to  the  discoveries  wrhich  he  makes  in 
himself;  no  man  wholly  acts  the  better  or  the  worse 
part  of  his  talking  self;  and  the  mind  is  sometimes 
as  aimless  when  we  are  awake  as  when  we  sleep. 

Along  toward  noon,  we  halted  at  an  inn  near  the 


His  Respect  for  the  Poets.  27, 

roadside.  Here  were  gathered  a  number  of  men  en 
gaged  in  holding  a  local  election.  My  companion 
was  at  once  keenly  alive.  I  was  hungry  and  went 
straightway  into  the  dining-room,  but  he  remained 
outside,  and  when  I  returned  to  him,  I  found  that  he 
had  canvassed  the  merits  of  the  three  candidates  for 
Justice  of  the  Peace,  hitherto  strangers  to  him,  and 
was  standing  on  a  stump  hotly  advocating  the  claims 
of  one  of  them.  His  assertions  were  dogmatic  and 
his  manner  was  violent.  He  swore  that  unless  Joyce 
were  elected  the  neighborhood  would  sink  into  moral 
nothingness.  Hilton,  another  candidate,  resented  the 
interference,  and  then  there  was  a  fight.  Joyce,  who 
was  present,  showed  the  white  feather;  and  Jackson, 
turning  from  him  in  disgust,  threw  his  influence  over 
to  Hilton,  who  had  stood  up  for  himself — until  he 
had  been  knocked  down.  The  polls  were  not  to  close 
until  four  o'clock,  and  my  companion  would  not  lis 
ten  to  a  hint  at  departure  until  the  votes  had  been 
counted.  Some  of  the  men  addressed  him  as  General 
and  some  as  Judge,  and  every  one  showed  him  great 
respect,  especially  Hilton,  who  had  been  introduced 
to  two  of  his  most  active  forces,  his  enmity  and  his 
advocacy.  When  the  ballots  had  been  counted  it  was 
found  that  Hilton  had  won  by  the  handsome  plural 
ity  of  three  votes,  and  then  the  General  could  not 
leave  until  after  he  had  taken  part  in  the  celebration 
of  the  victory. 


CHAPTER   IV 

THE    JOLLY    FERRYMAN. 

IT  WAS  nearly  nightfall  when  we  mounted  our 
horses  again.  Large  quantities  of  whisky, 
greened  with  bruised  mint,  had  been  served,  but 
the  General  had  partaken  sparingly,  and  his  mood 
seemed  to  have  been  sobered  rather  than  enlivened. 

The  moon  arose  and  the  graceful  hills  were  flooded 
with  light.  The  world  seemed  one  great  poem  in  ac 
cents  of  silver.  In  the  sunlight  the  General  had 
spoken  of  the  poets,  and  I  expected  now  to  hear  him 
break  forth  in  rhapsody  over  them,  now  that  we  were 
in  their  natural  zone,  the  moonlight,  amid  the 
shadowy,  mysterious  etchings;  his  mind,  however, 
was  not  upon  poetic  hill-tops,  but  down  in  political 
jungles. 

"The  man  who  makes  politics  a  profession  may  not 
be  a  good  citizen,  and  still  he  is  a  far  better  citizen 
than  the  man  who  neglects  to  vote.  In  this  regard, 
negligence  is  a  crime.  There  are  men,  both  North 
and  South  who  already  have  begun  to  talk  about  a 
possible  dissolution  of  this  union.  Such  men  ought 
to  be  hanged  as  high  as  Haman.  Better  that  every 
man  in  the  country  should  be  dead  than  that  the 
country  should  be  divided.  Power  can  come  only 
from  solidity.  Richard,  shall  I  tell  you  what  is  my 
life  dream?" 

"If  you  please,  sir,"  I  answered. 

He  turned  his  face  toward  me,  and  in  the  light  of 
28 


The  Jolly  Ferryman.  29 

the  moon  I  could  see  the  gleam  of  his  strange,  thrill 
ing  smile. 

"Kichard,  with  her  sword  old  England  struck  me 
— a  defenseless  boy — a  poverty-stricken  boy;  and,  by 
the  Eternal,  it  is  my  dream  that  she  shall  pay  for  it. 
With  money  ?  No,  with  her  best  blood.  In  a  cabin  in 
Ireland  my  people  starved.  Across  the  sea  there  lay 
a  promise,  and  they  left  their  endeared  home,  of 
starvation,  and  came  over  here,  but  the  hand  of  op 
pression  was  reached  forth  after  and  clutched  them — 
struck  me  with  a  sword,  and  to  the  grave  I  shall  carry 
the  scar,  but  I  will  make  a  scar  on  England's  brow 
and  she  shall  wear  it." 

I  wondered  if  all  great  men  were  such  egotists. 
That  they  are,  years  of  subsequent  observation  have 
convinced  me.  The  man  of  action  must  believe  in 
himself.  It  is  only  the  deep  thinker  that  is  made 
weak  by  a  want  of  faith.  This  man 's  most  quiet  medi 
tation  seemed  to  look  forward  to  action.  That  part 
of  thought  which  is  a  sort  of  graceful  sloth  was  not 
of  him.  His  friends  were  to  be  many  and  blindly 
ardent,  and  his  restless  enemies  were  to  inhabit  the 
earth.  Thousands  of  views  were  to  be  written  of  his 
character.  I  have  read  many  of  these  estimates,  some 
of  them  written  by  the  ablest  thinkers  of  the  age. 
Acknowledging  only  average  intelligence  and  deplor 
ing  crudeness  of  expression,  yet  out  of  the  vanity  of 
my  personal  contact  with  him,  I  feel  that  here  and 
there,  I  may  discover  in  his  character  a  light,  a  shade, 
a  whim,  that  escaped  the  observation  of  those  who 
looked  wholly  up  or  wholly  down,  gazing  rather  than 
searching.  The  university  lays  slow  hold  upon  a  vio 
lence  of  temperament  and  tones  it  down  to  hair-split 
ting  polemics;  and  I  believe  that  Andrew  Jackson's 


30  "By  the  Eternal" 

violence  in  action  was  resultant  from  his  inability  to 
find  at  the  right  time  the  doctrinaire  word.  He  ex 
pressed  himself  physically.  This  applies  more  par 
ticularly  to  the  latter  years  of  his  life. 

About  eleven  o  'clock  in  the  night  we  came  to  a 
river.  The  opposite  shore,  "shrouded  with  shadows, 
seemed  miles  away.  There  was  a  boat,  chained  and 
padlocked  to  a  tree.  We  shouted  for  the  ferryman 
but  there  was  no  answer.  Nowhere  was  there  a  light ; 
but  the  General  said  that  the  ferryman  lived  on  a  hill 
not  far  away,  and  instructed  me  to  go  to  his  cabin  and 
request  him  to  set  us  over  the  river. 

The  house  faced  from  the  road,  and  I  saw  no  gleam 
of  light  until  I  had  gone  around  in  front  and  then 
1  discovered  that  a  lamp  was  burning  within.  The 
door  was  open.  I  heard  voices;  and  looking  in  I  saw, 
seated  about  a  blanket  spread  upon  the  floor,  three 
men  playing  cards.  Standing  at  the  door,  I  spoke, 
asking  if  the  ferryman  were  present.  One  of  the 
meft  looked  up  and  answered: 

-'He  is,  but  he  ain't  doin'  no  ferryin'  to-night." 

"It  isn't  very  late,  and  it  is  necessary  that  Judge 
Jackson  and  I  should  cross  the  river." 

"Well,"  he  answered,  playing  a  card,  "a  man 
that's  smart  enough  to  be  a  judge  ought  to  have  pa 
tience  enough  to  wait. ' ' 

"Well  put,  Crutcher,"  cried  out  one  of  his  com 
panions.  "I  tell  you,  Crutch,  he's  got  sense  enough 
to  be  a  judge  himself." 

"Much  ableeged  to  you,"  said  the  ferryman,  ac 
knowledging  the  compliment;  and  then  he  added, 
speaking  to  me:  "Good  night,  before  the  dogs  bite 
you."« 


"HOLD   ON,    SIR,    HOLD   ON, 


The  Jolly  Ferryman.  31 

"And  must  I  tell  the  Judge  that  you  refuse  to  set 
him  over  the  river?" 

"As  I  am  feelin'  particular  well  to-night,  I  don't 
care  what  you  tell  him.  Pass  the  bottle.  It's  my 
drink,  and  Timothy's  smell  of  the  cork." 

Just  then  Jackson  passed  me,  with  swift  stride, 
into  the  house.  I  followed  him.  The  ferryman  was 
drinking  out  of  a  bottle. 

"I  don't  mind  visitors  as  a  general  thing,"  said 
he,  putting  the  bottle  aside  and  wiping  his  mouth, 
"but  I  don't  like  for  'em  to  be  so  infernal  sudden. 
Anybody  ask  you  fellows  to  take  a  hand?" 

"No,"  answered  the  General,  reminding  me  of  a 
calm  that  was  almost  a  silence,  "but  we  ask  you  to 
take  a  hand  and  to  put  it  to  the  oar.  I  beg  your  par 
don  for  interrupting  your  game,  but  I  take  it  that  you 
are  a  licensed  ferryman,  and  J  therefore  demand  that 
you  row  us  over  the  river  or  lend  us  your  boat,  just  as 
you  please." 

"To  that  I  could  say  all  right,  but  I  won't;  I'll  say 
all  wrong." 

"Meaning  that  you'll  do  neither?" 

"You  guess  putty  well." 

That  was  all  the  guessing  that  was  done.  Jackson's- 
pistols  were  out  in  less  than  a  second;  and  giving 
the  fellow  a  kick  he  said : 

"Get  up." 

"Hold  on,  sir,  hold  on;  that't  just  what  I  was 
thinkin'  about  doin'  myself.  You  must  be  the  Andy 
Jackson  that  I  Ve  heard  'em  talk  about. ' ' 

He  was  up.  "Timothy,  you  an'  Dave  run  things 
here  till  I  come  back." 

All  three  were  on  their  feet.    The  one  addressed  as 


32  "By  the  Eternal." 

Timothy  appeared  to  be  drunker  than  his  com 
panions. 

"Crutch,  I'll  be  hung,  draw'd  and  quartered  if  I'd 
go  down  thar  this  time  o'  night  unless  I  wanted  to," 
he  said. 

"Now,  Timothy,  you  wouldn't  be  so  unaccommo 
dating  would  you?" 

"Lead  on,"  commanded  the  General,  "I'm  wait 
ing." 

"Yes,  sir,  as  soon  as  I  find  my  key  to  the  padlock. 
Here  it  is.  Would  have  'lowed  that  I  left  it  in  my 
other  clothes,  but  happened  to  recollect  that  I  ain't 
got  none." 

The  General  ordered  him  to  go  in  advance  of  us, 
and  he  took  the  lead  as  cheerfully  as  if  he  had  been 
conducting  an  expedition  purely  for  his  own  pleas 
ure.  He  broke  out  in  song. 

The  river  was  swift,  but  Crutch  knew  his  business 
and  soon  had  us  across.  I  thought  that  finally  he 
would  haggle  about  the  price,  but  his  mind  had 
soared  so  high  above  such  trifles  that  he  insisted 
upon  tendering  our  passage  as  a  compliment  due  from 
himself;  and  when  the  General  had  forced  him  to  ac 
cept  his  regular  fee,  he  took  it  with  a  bow  of  deep 
gratitude. 

"General,"  he  said,  "whenever  you  come  along 
this  way,  no  matter  how  deep  I  am  in  the  game — 
whether  it's  my  drink  or  Timothy's  smell  of  the  cork, 
you  just  holler  and  I'll  be  with  you.  Good  night; 
mighty  glad  you  dropped  by  to  see  me." 


CHAPTER  V. 

AT  THE  BALL. 

IN  THOSE  days,  Nashville  was  a  small  town,  but 
to  me  it  was  a  city.     It  was  in    the    afternoon 
when   we   entered  the  place.     The  streets  were 
crowded  with  buyers  and  sellers,  and  surely  I  had 
never  beheld  so  busy  a  scene.     There  were  great  ox 
•\vagons  loaded  with  tobacco,  and  the  river  was  cov 
ered  with  flat  boats  weighted  down  with  timber  to  be 
used  in  the  construction  of  the  many  houses  that  were 
building. 

As  we  passed  through  the  streets  toward  the  inn 
where  we  were  to  lodge,  many  of  the  people  bowed 
to  the  General,  and  not  a  few  of  them  came  from 
the  sidewalks,  out  into  the  mud,  to  shake  him  by  the 
hand.  The  inn  was  a  great  structure,  built  of  logs, 
and  must  have  contained  as  many  as  ten  rooms.  In 
this  hostelry  there  was  a  ball  that  evening,  and  I  had 
an  opportunity  to  look  in  upon  the  beauty  and  the 
fashion  of  the  place.  In  the  main  hallway  a  little 
misunderstanding  took  place,  concerning  some  women, 
I  gathered;  and  a  man  was  stabbed,  but  he  did  not 
die  immediately,  and  thus  what  might  have  been  a 
damper  upon  the  gaiety  of  the  occasion  was  happily 
averted.  The  sheriff  came  around  to  see  the  gentle 
man  who  had  done  the  stabbing,  but  learning  that  it . 
was  in  the  defense  of  a  woman's  honor,  bade  him  good 
night  and  returned  to  the  livery  stable,  where  the 

33 


34  "By  the  Eternal." 

two  best  known  bulldogs  of  the  community  were  to 
fight,  bets  running  high  on  each  side. 

Nothing  further  had  been  said  concerning  my  mat 
riculation  at  the  Davidson  Academy,  and  believing 
that  I  possessed  sufficient  education  to  fit  me  for  an 
immediate  beginning  in  the  study  of  the  law,  I  hoped 
that  the  General  had  forgotten  having  proposed  it. 
l  was  not,  however,  given  much  time  for  speculation. 
On  the  following  morning,  while  we  were  at  breakfast 
he  said  to  me: 

"Richard,  to-day  I  am  going  to  the  Hermitage,  my 
home,  about  twelve  miles  up  the  river,  but  before  set 
ting  out  I  will  go  with  you  to  the  academy  to  see 
that  you  are  properly  entered  there.  As  I  said  be 
fore,  you  must  not  take  the  expense  into  account. 
Andrew  Jackson  never  left  a  debt  unpaid,  never  per 
mitted  an  obligation  to  fade  dim  in  his  memory. ' ' 

"But,  sir,"  I  interposed  in  the  mildest  manner  pos 
sible,  "what  my  father  did  for  you  he  would  have 
done  for  any  one  else,  and  did  not  expect  you  to  re 
member  it  as  an  obligation." 

"Ah,  and  therefore  the  more  generous,  and  the 
more  reason  I  should  have  to  discharge  the  debt.  Over 
at  Mrs.  Crenshaw's,  on  Cherry  street,  you  will  find 
an  excellent  boarding  place.  She  was  at  the  ball  here 
last  night,  and  I  meant  to  introduce  you  to  her,  but 
just  at  that  time  something  happened  to  distract  my 
attention.  However,  I  spoke  to  her  concerning  you, 
and  all  the  arrangements  have  been  made.  If  you 
are  diligent  in  the  academy,  as  I  know  you  will  be, 
you  may,  in  a  year's  time,  enter  the  law  department." 
'It  shall  be  as  you  desire,"  I  answered,  and  smil 
ing  he  replied:  "Becomingly  meek  for  a  young  man 
who  owns  two  horse  pistols. ' ' 


At  the  Ball.  35 

I  bowed  my  acknowledgments.  "It  is  true  that  I 
have  very  little  money  at  present,"  said  I,  "but  I 
have — well,  distant  prospects  in  Virginia." 

"We  will  not  discuss  them,  sir,  be  they  far  or  near. 
Did  you  mingle  any  in  society  last  night?  I  left  the 
ball  rather  early.  It  was  a  desperate  fight — I  mean 
the  dog  fight  around  at  the  stable.  There  was  an  Eng 
lish  gentleman  present,  conceited  to  an  unbearable 
degree,  persistent  in  the  assertion  of  his  opinion  that 
Cliff  Robinson's  dog  would  be  the  victor.  I  remarked 
to  him  that  I  might  defer  to  his  superior  knowledge 
of  ceremony,  in  a  drawing-room  in  London,  but  that 
in  an  American  livery  stable  I  conceded  nothing. 
Rather  than  to  anger  this  seemed  to  please  him,  and 
taking  out  his  wallet  he  remarked  that  he  had  a  few 
pounds  that  he  was  willing  to  lay  upon  his  judgment. 
I  had  some  American  money  which  did  not  seem  fated 
to  be  taken  out  of  the  country  by  him,  and  I  bet  him 
one  hundred  dollars.  Saveley's  dog  was  the  favorite, 
the  better  proportioned,  and  it  surprised  me,  sir,  that 
a  world  sportsman  should  choose  the  other  animal." 

' '  I  hope  you  won,  sir. ' ' 

"I  thank  you  for  your  interest,  Richard,  but  that 
Englishman  walked  off  yawning,  with  my  money. 
Saveley's  dog  was  killed;  and,  sir,  I  should  not  have 
minded  it  so  much  if  he  had  died  game.  But  he 
didn't;  he  howled  before  he  died." 

Ah,  they  have  never  succeeded  in  sainting  this  man. 
Nor  have  his  enemies  ever  acknowledged  the  unosten 
tatious  but  certain  moral  reformation  that  came  upon 
him.  Historians  take  into  account  the  age  in  which 
a  man  has  lived ;  the  world  grows  more  moral,  gentler. 
But  at  the  time  of  which  I  write,  with  the  exception, 
perhaps,  of  New  England,  which  was  dark  and  intol- 


36  "By  the  Eternal." 

erant  under  Puritanic  restraint,  society  was  loth  to 
condemn  a  man  for  drinking  or  gambling.  And  out 
of  this  atmosphere  there  arose  great  men,  not  be 
cause  of  the  taint  in  average  life,  but  because  they 
were  strong  enough  to  withstand  temptation  or  to  re 
form;  and  I  remember  having  heard  an  old  fellow 
say,  "It  ain't  what  he  refuses  to  do  in  this  life  that 
makes  a  man  strong — it's  what  he  quits  doin'." 

After  breakfast  we  repaired  to  the  academy,  the 
most  pretentious  school  that  I  had  ever  seen,  and  here 
1  was  solemnly  entered  as  a  student. 

"And  now,"  said  the  General,  as  I  walked  down 
the  hill  with  him,  to  see  him  on  his  way  home,  "re 
member  that  the  harder  you  work  the  better  you  will 
please  me.  I  shall  see  you  from  time  to  time,  as  I  am 
in  town  every  few  days;  and  when  Mrs.  Jackson  re 
turns — she  is  now  visiting  relatives  in  Kentucky — I 
shall  expect  you  to  come  out  and  break  bread  with 
me  at  my  own  table.  Ah,  let  me  see.  There  was 
something  else  that  I  was  going  to  say.  Yes,  I  re 
call.  Get  along  with  your  fellow  students  the  best 
you  can,  but  always  bear  in  mind  that  you  are  to 
suffer  no  indignity  whatever.  'Better  be  with  the 
dead,'  sir,  said  a  poet  whom  I  can  read  in  the  original ; 
'better  be  with  the  dead.'  " 

He  shook  my  hand  and  left  me,  striding  slowly 
down  the  gently  sloping  path,  a  picture  of  majesty, 
as  if  he  had  conquered  every  inch  of  ground  on 
which  he  set  his  foot. 

On  this  day  I  resumed  my  neglected  studies.  But 
looking  back,  it  seems  to  me  that  our  system  of  edu 
cation  was  most  impractical;  and  the  further  back 
you  go,  the  more  impractical  it  appears,  until  you 
wander  to  the  groves  of  Greece,  where  young  men 


At  the  Ball.  37 


were  taught  to  memorize  poetry  and  fancies  called 
philosophy;  and  from  these  groves  they  were  sent 
forth  into  the  streets,  orators,  indeed,  but  exhibiting 
no  advancement  over  their  predecessors.  In  the  rude 
states  of  America,  education  was  little  better  than 
a  rhapsody  committed  to  memory.  It  was  thought 
that  the  mind  ought  to  be  more  graceful  with  vague 
theory  before  it  should  be  strengthened  with  prac 
tical  truth.  My  instructor  was  an  Irishman,  mellow 
with  humor.  His  name  was  Mahone;  and,  what 
seemed  strange  to  me,  he  was  inclined  to  be  a  free 
thinker,  a  term  which  in  those  days  meant  a  dark 
reproach.  The  circuit  rider  who  had  flounced  over 
in  bed  from  me  had  accused  me  justly  when  he  de 
clared  that  I  had  read  Tom  Paine,  whom  I  believed 
a  true  worshiper  of  wondrous  Nature's  God. 


CHAPTER    VI. 

ARABELLA    CRENSHAW. 

MAHONE  made  up  to  me  at  "recess,"  invited 
me  to  take  a  walk  with  him,  and  when  we  had 
reached  a  lonely  spot  down  in  the  woods,  he 
drew  forth  a  bottle  and  bade  me  help  myself.    I  de 
clined,  and  he  seemed  hurt. 

"Oh,  don't  be  exclusive  just  because  your  sponsor 
here  is  one  of  the  gamest  men  in  the  world  to-day. 
Come,  now,  how  are  you  ever  to  get  at  the  spirit  of  the 
poets  in  Old  Ireland  if  you  don't  take  just  a  wee  bit? 
And  this  came  from  the  Old  Sod.  I'm  sure  the  Gen 
eral  himself  would  jump  at  the  chance  like  a  fish  at  a 
worm.  That's  right,  drink  it  while  you're  smiling, 
for  a  smile  adds  zest  to  good  liquor. ' ' 

I  took  a  swallow,  and  he  clapped  me  on  the  shoul 
der.  "Ah,  surely  now  you  have  matriculated.  The 
Irish  poets  would  claim  you  as  one  of  their  own — 
brawny  lad  that  you  are.  Ah,  I  have  seen  many  a  one 
of  them  set  sail  across  the  sea,  for  their  only  home, 
America;  and  one  of  these  days  they  will  go  back 
again,  I  am  thinking,  with  rods  in  their  hands  to 
scourge  the  oppressor.  Let  us  walk  down  further  on, 
in  the  valley,  yonder  where  the  grass  is  so  green. 
Sure  it  is  like  the  old  home." 

I  went  with  him  down  into  the  cool  depths  of  the 
green  valley,  and  plucking  up  a  handful  of  the  rich 
grass  he  sprinkled  it  upon  his  bare  head. 

38 


Arabella  Crenshaw.  39 

4 '  I  know  your  mother  must  have  been  Irish, ' '  he 
said,  his  eyes  beaming  upon  me. 

"She  was,"  I  answered. 

"Ah,  I  could  see  it  in  your  fine  countenance,  sir; 
blessed  be  her  name."  He  turned  about  and  looked 
up  toward  the  schoolhouse,  on  the  hill.  "It  is  not 
all  of  them  up  there  that  hold  Old  Ireland  dear  in 
their  hearts,  sir;  they  are  democrats,  but  they  take 
pride  in  their  English  ancestry.  I  don't  blame  them 
for  that,  mind  you,  but  no  matter  how  great  a  coun 
try  may  be,  no  man  should  be  proud  of  her  lack  of 
heart  and  sympathy.  In  England  they  sigh  over  the 
slave  trade,  but  cry  'traitor'  if  one  weeps  over  the 
suffering  in  Ireland.  And  now,  in  memory  of  that 
suffering,  we  will  take  just  another  wee  drop — in 
silence." 

"Not  for  me,  Professor;  with  me  the  drinking  of 
liquor  would  be  a  crime.  It  shoots  through  my  blood 
and  makes  me  restless;  besides,  there  is  not  more  than 
enough  in  the  bottle  for  yourself.  You'll  need  to 
sympathize  again  later  in  the  day. ' ' 

He  clapped  me  on  the  shoulder.  "Ah,  what  a 
broth  of  a  lad.  You  would  teach  an  Irishman  to  be 
provident;  and,  ah,  sir,  that  is  a  degree  that  no  uni 
versity  can  confer." 

He  drank  again,  his  sympathy  showing  in  his  eyes ; 
and  then  he  asked  me  to  sit  with  him  upon  a  green 
bank,  beneath  a  red  haw  tree,  to  keep  him  company 
while  he  smoked  his  pipe — a  bit  of  clay  as  black  as 
any  pot.  With  a  flint  and  steel  he  struck  a  light,  and 
for  a  time  he  smoked  with  a  succession  of  loud 
smacks,  seeming  greatly  to  enjoy  the  exertion. 

"I  believe  you  are  coming  over  to  board  at  the 
Widow  Crenshaw 's,"  he  said.  Then  he  smacked  his 


40  "By  the  Eternal." 

mouth  louder  than  before.  "There's  a  young  widow 
among  a  million,  sir;  and  I  am  sure  that  if  her  hus 
band  hadn't  .been  killed  he  must  sooner  or  later  have 
died  of  joy.  The  likes  of  her  eyes  was  never  seen 
before,  and  her  smile — "  he  took  the  pipe  out  of  his 
mouth  and  slowly  shook  his  head.  "Shall  I  ever  get 
over  that  smile?  And  the  young  fellows  are  all 
breaking  their  necks  after  her,  bad  luck  to  them ;  and 
I  suppose  you  will  be,  too.  Won't  you  now?  Come 
tell  me." 

I  strove  to  assure  him  that  I  was  not  much  given 
that  way,  but  he  shook  his  head.  "I  have  been  try 
ing  to  induce  her  to  skip  my  looks  and  to  center  her 
beautiful  mind  on  my  spirit,"  he  continued,  "and 
sometimes  I  think  she  does,  but  not  always,  sir;  she 
laughs,  but  I  don 't  know  whether  she  laughs  at  me  or 
with  me.  But  no  matter.  The  man  that  takes  her 
away  from  me  will  have  a  struggle  to  the  end.  I 
think  you  will  have  trouble  with  Lismukes,  sir. ' ' 

' '  Lismukes !    Who  is  he  ? " 

"The  leading  young  man  of  our  school.  He  ex 
pects  every  student  to  pay  him  homage. ' ' 

"He  needn't  expect  it  of  me,"  I  hotly  replied. 

"There  spoke  a  man.    But  he  will." 

"And  he  will  find  out  that  I  won't." 

"Ah,  such  beautiful  talk  cheers  me  to  the  soul  of 
me,"  said  the  professor.  In  a  way  he  was  a  scholar, 
but,  above  all,  a  native  of  Ireland.  "Lismukes  is  off 
now  on  leave  of  absence,"  he  continued,  slowly  smok 
ing,  "and  will  be  gone  as  long  as  it  suits  his  fancy. 
You  might  say  that  he  runs  things  pretty  much  to  suit 
himself,  simply  because  no  one  cares  to  have  trouble 
with  him,  knowing  that  it  might  be  far-reaching  in 
its  results.  His  people,  some  of  them,  are  educated 


Arabella  Crenshaw.  41 

in  a  way,  but  the  majority  of  them  are  tough  custom 
ers.  They  have  no  fondness  for  Andrew  Jackson. 
They  have  come  to  remember  him.  He  had  trouble 
with  one  of  them  while  he  Avas  judge.  The  affair 
is  famous  throughout  this  part  of  the  country.  The 
fellow,  a  ruffian  who  in  Ireland  Avould  have  had  his 
head  constantly  broken  with  a  blackthorne,  committed 
a  depredation  and  swore  that  they  shouldn't  arrest 
him.  He  came  to  the  place  where  Jackson  was  hold 
ing  court,  and  parading  up  and  down  in  front  of  the 
Hall  of  Justice,  flourished  his  weapons  and  defied  the 
very  name  of  law.  The  Judge  ordered  the  sheriff  to 
arrest  him,  and  the  sheriff,  who  had  no  nerve  at  all, 
went  out  and  begged  the  ruffian  to  let  himself  be  ar 
rested,  for  the  good  of  society;  and  the  fellow,  cock 
ing  his  pistols  and  raising  his  voice  into  a  bawdy  song, 
improvised  an  oratorio  to  the  effect  that  society  might 
be  damned.  This  greatly  humiliated  the  sheriff,  for 
lie  had  a  daughter  in  society  at  the  time — was  attend 
ing  a  quilting  party  that  very  day ;  and  so  he  begged 
the  ruffian  to  revise  and  to  modify  his  sweeping  state 
ment,  but  he  wouldn't.  The  sheriff  being  a  man  of 
few  words,  refused  to  argue  with  him,  and,  being 
also  a  man  of  quick  decision,  decided  to  withdraw 
from  the  contest  and  to  report  to  the  Judge  that  the 
ruffian  was  in  no  humor  to  be  arrested.  Then  the 
Judge  ordered  that  he  himself  might  be  summoned, 
which  was  done ;  and  out  he  went  with  a  pistol  in 
each  hand,  walked  up  to  the  fellow  who  was  enter 
taining  a  party  of  admirers,  scared  him  into  fits  and 
then  arrested  the  fits.  When  asked  afterward  why 
he  didn't  shoot  the  Judge,  he  said:  'I  couldn't.  With 
his  knife-blade  eyes  he  had  cut  my  nerves  in  two.' 
Yet  the  fellow  was  game,  for  afterward  he  shot  a 


42  "By  the  Eternal." 

man  under  most  unfavorable  circumstances.  I  tell 
you  this  to  show  what  sort  of  a  faction  you  will  have 
to  deal  with  unless  you  pay  homage  to  Lismukes." 

I  felt  my  blood  bubble  with  heat.  I,  the  son  of  a 
man  who,  every  one  had  said,  did  not  know  the  mean 
ing  of  the  word  ''fear!"  Should  I  stand  in  awe  of 
this — this  fellow,  whatever  his  name  might  be  ?  The 
Irishman  enjoyed  my  anger.  I  wondered  if  Lismukes 
had  been  in  Jackson's  mind  when  he  warned  me  to 
put  up  with  no  indignities. 

"But  there  is  one  thing  that  we  may  both  con 
gratulate  ourselves  on,  which  is  that  Lismukes  does 
not  live  at  the  house  of  the  charming  Mrs.  Cren- 
shaw,"  said  the  professor. 

"It  wouldn't  make  any  difference  to  me  if  he  did," 
I  answered. 

"Possibly  not,"  the  schoolman  agreed,  "but  it 
would  make  a  big  difference  to  me." 

"How  have  you  managed  not  to  have  trouble  with 
this  fellow?"  I  inquired. 

"For  the  reason  that  I  made  up  my  mind  to  put 
up  with  everything  from  him  until  after  a  certain 
event  takes  place,  and  then  I  will  break  every  bone  in 
his  body  and  leave  the  country.  The  event  I  refer  to 
is  my  marriage  with  Mrs.  Crenshaw." 

I  inquired  as  to  what  difference  his  marriage  could 
make,  and  slowly  he  shook  his  head.  "Ah,  sir,  they 
are  distantly  related,  and  it  is  singular,  but  out  here' 
in  this  wild  country  it  would  seem  that  blood  is 
thicker  than  matrimony — much  thicker  than  mine 
with  her  if  I  should  have  a  fight  with  him  before 
hand."  His  pipe  was  out.  Again  he  struck  the  flint 
and  steel  together,  caught  a  spark  in  the  fluffy  tow 
and  relighted  it.  My  anger,  stirred  by  the  absent  Mr. 


Arabella  Crenshaw.  43 

Lismukes,  had  cooled — and  this  man's  humors  made 
my  nerves  laugh.  * 

"You  will  be  moving  into  your  new  home  about 
supper  time,"  said  he.  "And  then,  sir,  you  will  see 
one  of  the  grandest  sights  that  ever  fell  to  mortal 
view — Mrs.  Crenshaw,  sitting  at  the  head  of  the  table, 
all  unconscious  of  the  fact  that  she  is  the  most  beauti 
ful  woman  in  the  world." 

Now  he  was  becoming  tiresome.  Humor,  individ 
uality,  character,  all  are  alike  when  they  prate  of  the 
object  of  their  love.  All  the  world  may  love  a  lover 
if  all  the  world's  in  love,  but  I  was  not.  I  was  one 
of  the  few  youngsters  who  had  not  fallen  in  love  with 
a  dame  almost  old  enough  to  be  their  mother. 

Soon  we  returned  to  the  academy,  new  shades  of 
ancient  learning,  and  during  the  remainder  of  the 
day  I  was  busy  with  odes  and  philippics.  In  the 
evening  I  returned  to  the  inn,  gathered  up  my  scant 
belongings,  and  repaired  to  the  Widow  Crenshaw 's 
home,  the  chief  physical  characteristic  of  which  was 
its  construction  of  "frame"  rather  than  of  logs.  The 
mansion  of  the  town,  it  was  set  back  from  the  street 
in  the  midst  of  a  grove  of  graceful  trees.  Mahone 
met  me  at  the  hall  door  and  conducted  me  into  a  large 
sitting-room,  furnished,  as  you  must  know,  to  suggest 
necessary  economy  rather  than  extravagance.  On 
the  walls  there  were  several  portraits,  one  of  a  woman 
stroking  the  head  of  a  stag  hound,  and  another  of  a 
man  with  a  hawk  resting  on  his  head.  Mahone  was 
quick  to  tell  me  that  they  were  family  portraits,  one 
representing  the  widow  and  the  other  her  husband, 
which  I  surmised;  but  I  did  not  quite  understand  the 
significance  of  the  hawk  until  my  friend  assured  me 
that  the  late  Mr.  Crenshaw  was  of  a  very  ancient 


44  "By  the  Eternal." 

house,  dating  back  to  the  time  when  hawking  was  the 
favorite  pastime  of  kings.  Both  portraits  had  been 
done  about  two  years  before  by  a  Frenchman  who 
had  come  up  from  New  Orleans,  and  who  had  ex 
changed  these  works  of  art  for  six  months  domiciliary 
accommodations,  as  the  professor  termed  it.  Mr. 
Crenshaw's  death  had  been  sudden,  if  not  instanta 
neous,  he  having  been  kicked  by  a  horse  that  was  much 
pestered  by  flies.  It  was  a  sad,  not  to  say  a  mean, 
ending  for  a  man  whose  kinsfolk  had  sent  hawks  sail 
ing  against  the  wind ;  still,  it  might  have  been  worse, 
for  the  horse  was  a  blooded  animal  and  had  been 
"complimented"  by  Governor  John  Sevier. 

After  a  time  several  other  boarders  entered  the 
room;  Judge  Black,  who  had  been  a  Justice  of  the 
Peace  in  North  Carolina,  a  young  storekeeper  named 
Harvey,  and  a  woman  who  was  looking  for  her  hus- 
Band,  having  heard  that  he  had  come  down  the  Cum 
berland  River  on  a  raft  of  logs.  She  put  on  her 
spectacles,  looked  at  me  and  slowly  shook  her  head. 
Evidently,  I  was  not  her  husband.  Judge  Black  had 
heard  of  me — not  that  I  was  of  good  family  or  that  I 
had  done  ought  to  commend  myself  to  the  public,  but 
that  I  was  the  reputed  owner  of  a  fine  horse.  He 
shook  me  heartily  by  the  hand  and  inquired  the  age 
of  my  horse. 

"We  welcome  you  to  our  rapidly  developing  city," 
said  he,  reaching  for  my  hand  again  and  giving  it  an 
other  squeeze.  "We  have  need  of  young  and  enthu 
siastic  blood.  What  will  you  take  for  your  horse  ? ' ' 

I  answered  that  I  was  not  on  the  look-out  for  a  pur 
chaser,  which,  adding  value  to  the  animal,  caused  the 
Judge  to  smile  upon  me  with  renewed  light.  Soon 
there  came  the  ringing  of  a  bell,  mellow  as  a  cow- 


Arabella  Crenshaw.  45 

bell  rung  at  sunset— and  the  Judge,  forgetting  me, 
and  perhaps  with  a  dimmer  memory  of  my  horse,  has 
tened  toward  a  door  opening  off  into  another  room. 
The  bell  had  announced  supper.  Mahone  took  me  by 
the  arm,  led  me  to  the  head  of  the  table  and  presented 
me  to  Mrs.  Arabella  Crenshaw;  and,  as  I  bowed  low, 
the  Judge  brayed  out:  "The  young  man  that  owni 
the  horse." 

Mrs.  Crenshaw  smiled  and  said:  "I  am  much 
pleased  to  meet  you,  Mr.  Horse — I  beg  your  pardon, 
I  mean  Mr.  Staggs." 

The  Judge  clapped  me  on  the  shoulder  as  if  I  had 
been  complimented  by  the  widow's  mistake,  and  the 
woman  whose  husband  had  been  rafted  away  from 
her,  coughed  and  remarked  that  such  "verbal  mis 
haps"  were  most  natural,  as  she  had  often  made  them 
herself. 

Mrs.  Crenshaw  laughed  like  a  dove  cooing,  and 
Mahone  whispered  to  me:  "Did  you  ever  hear  the 
like  of  that?"  It  was  music,  melancholy  and  sweet; 
and  I  looked  into  Mrs.  Crenshaw 's  eyes,  into  the 
great  depths  of  them,  where  mischief  sprites  were 
sporting  in  an  azure  sea.  I  said  something,  a  foolish 
something,  of  course;  and  down  from  a  black  cloud 
floating  above  the  sea,  there  shot  one  of  the  family's 
ancestral  hawks,  and  I  knew  that  she  had  made  a 
witty  reply,  for  I  heard  the  company  laughing  and 
felt  myself  grow  red. 

Some  scribbler  wrote,-  "a  woman's  glory-mark  is 
thirty."  This  woman  had  not  reached  this  golden 
age.  It  seemed  that  she  was  just  old  enough  for  what 
she  was,  a  charming  widow,  a  conscious  wringer  of 
hearts.  But  in  those  days  I  was  ignorant.  Ah,  and 
who  shall  say  that  as  man  grows  older  he  grows  wiser? 


46  "By  the  Eternal." 

It  is  true  that  he  knows  more  of  man,  and  it  is  true, 
also,  that  he  may  know  less  of  woman. 

Nature  said  to  the  mathematician:  "I  will  give 
you  a  problem  which  you  cannot  solve."  Time 
passed;  and  the  mathematician,  in  the  ripeness  of  his 
victorious  years,  inquired  of  Nature:  "Where  is 
the  problem  you  were  to  give  me — the  one  I  could 
not  solve?"  And  Nature  smiled  and  thus  made  an 
swer  :  ' '  I  gave  it  to  you  years  ago — your  wife. ' '  And 
the  mathematician  bowed  his  head  and  was  mute. 

The  widow  laughed,  and  spring-time  waters  were 
loosened  in  the  hills.  Well  could  I  now  catch  at  the 
spirit  of  the  schoolman's  infatuation.  She  passed 
the  bread,  and  I  felt  that  she  had  knighted  me;  she 
smiled,  and  for  a  moment  I  knew  that  I  wore  a 
crown. 

' '  General  Jackson  has  spoken  so  highly  of  you,  Mr. 
Staggs,  and  we  are  so  pleased  to  have  you  with  us," 
she  said,  and  I  whispered  to  the  Irishman:  "Did 
you  ever  hear  the  like  of  that  ? ' '  And  it  seemed  that 
his  eyes  groaned  in  jealousy  as  he  looked  at  me.  Was 
I  in  love,  too  ?  Oh,  no ;  but  for  her  sake,  I  would  do 
homage  to  Lismukes,  her  ruffian  kinsman ;  with  rever 
ent  hands  I  would  tallow  his  rawhide  boots,  curry  his 
horse,  give  him  my  own. 

"Don't  you  think  we  have  a  charming  city  for  so 
new  a  place?"  sweetly  she  made  remark,  passing  a 
platter  of  fried  venison;  and  with  a  lump  of  gold  in 
my  throat  I  answered:  "Madam,  while  approaching 
it,  had  I  seen  all  its  charms,  I  should  have  thought  it 
the  new  Jerusalem,  coming  down  out  of  the  clouds." 

"Oh,  you  blasphemous  boy,"  she  cried,  and  per* 
haps  I  said  it,  perhaps  dreamed  afterward  that  I  did 
say  it  to  the  Irishman:  "Sweep  me  a  place  on  the 


Arabella  Crenshaw.  47 

floor,  that  I  may  fall  there  and  at  her  feet  expire  in 
humiliation."  Waving  my  knife,  and  doubtless  at 
my  own  throat,  I  shouted  that  I  was  not  a  blasphemer 
but  a  worshiper.  At  this  moment  Judge  Black's 
voice  hammered  at  my  ear: 

"Is  your  horse  a  single  footer?" 

' '  Oh,  yes,  do  tell  us  something  about  his  accomplish 
ments, "  cried  Arabella.  I  could  no  longer  think  of 
her  as  Mrs.  Crenshaw,  no  matter  if  the  kings  who  had 
the  honor  of  establishing  her  husband 's  family  hawked 
the  skies. 

"Madam,"  I  answered,  bowing  low  over  the  gravy, 
"to-morrow  you  shall  ride  him — ride  him  to  the  place 
of  your  nativity,  the  end  of  a  June  rainbow — if  you 
promise  to  come  back  to  us." 

She  dropped  a  napkin  to  clap  her  hands,  and  that 
which  had  been  a  dip  candle  but  now  a  Jove-torch, 
seemed  to  sweep  my  cheek  with  its  flame.  She  told 
me  that  I  was  not  eating  anything.  How  could  she 
have  said  that?  Eating!  I  was  eating  her.  She 
handed  a  glass  of  milk  to  the  Irishman,  and  I  won 
dered  as  to  the  exact  time  on  the  following  day  when 
I  should  kill  him. 

When  we  returned  to  the  sitting-room,  Harvey,  the 
merchant,  asked  me  if  I  would  like  to  walk  down  to 
the  store  with  him.  Store !  My  pistols  were  not 
within  reach,  and  so,  I  did  not  shoot  him,  except  with 
a  look  that  ought  to  have  been  fatal.  And  what  was  it 
that  Arabella  was  saying?  "Oh,  I  think  you  would 
enjoy  a  visit  to  Mr.  Harvey's  store — it's  such  an 
emporium  of  trade." 

Trade  at  this  time,  when  there  should  be  no  barter 
save  the  exchange  of  sentiment,  the  swapping  of 
poetry !  She  said  that  she  would  like  to  go,  and  Ajax, 


48  "By  the  Eternal" 

Hercules — could  not  have  held  me.  I  swore  that  I 
was  charmed  with  emporiums,  loved  them ;  and  when 
she  bade  me  tie  the  ribbons  of  her  bonnet  beneath  her 
chin,  I  did  not  believe  that  I  could  possibly  live 
through  it,  or  wish  to  survive  it.  She  laughed  at  me ; 
declared  me  awkward;  and  &s  we  were  going  out  it 
is  a  thousand  wonders  that  I  didn't  butt  my  head 
against  the  door,  so  completely  had  I  lost  control  of 
it.  The  Irishman  stepped  forward,  offered  his  arm; 
and  she  took  it — and  I  walked  with  the  ' '  emporium. ' ' 


CHAPTER  VII. 

WITH    CONTEMPT. 

SOMETIMES  beneath  a  lamp  hung  in  front  of  a 
door,  she  would  turn  her  face  back  toward  me, 
and  at  such  times  the  Irishman  would  hasten 
her  forward  into  the  dark  again.  Through  black 
gaps  I  reached  the  store.  The  proud  young  merchant 
lighted  the  candles  and  showed  us  his  stock  of  goods, 
brought  in  wagons  and  on  pack  mules  from  distant 
Philadelphia.  How  her  eyes  sparkled  as  she  viewed 
a  piece  of  silk;  and  the  sordid  wretch,  the  merchant, 
stood  there  and  saw  her  covet  it — looked  on  without 
emotion — did  not  fall  upon  his  knees  and  beg  of  her 
to  accept  it.  Ah,  but  if  he  had,  surely  I  should  have 
slain  him  and  set  fire  to  his  house. 

I  cannot  recall  an  incident  of  our  return,  except 
that  walking  with  the  Irishman  she  looked  back  at 
me.  I  don't  know  how  I  got  into  the  house,  up  the 
stairway,  into  my  room.  I  remember  dropping  down 
upon  the  bed,  hillock  of  feathers— remember  staring 
at  the  ceiling  till  the  candle  burned  out,  and  then, 
of  gazing  upward  into  the  dark.  A  wink  and  it  was 
still  dark;  another  wink  and  the  sun  was  shining.  I 
sprang  from  the  bed  and  looked  out  through  the  win 
dow,  down  into  the  front  yard,  and  there  was  Ara 
bella,  with  sleeves  rolled  up,  watering  the  flowers. 
She  looked  as  if  she  had  slept  in  the  moon,  brought 
down  about  her  head  the  raveled  dawn,  and  absorbed 
the  early  sunbeams  with  her  snappy  eyes.  There 

49 


50  "By  the  Eternal." 

came  the  sounds  of  rapid  hoofs,  and  then  a  majestic 
figure  was  at  the  gate — General  Jackson.  She  waved 
a  kiss  at  him  as  he  dismounted ;  and  then  he  took  her 
hand  and  gallantly  touched  it  with  his  lips. 

"You  are  just  in  time  for  breakfast,"  she  said. 
''There's  the  bell  now." 

"You  townspeople  are  lazy.  I  breakfasted  more 
than  two  hours  ago,"  he  answered.  "Ah,  my  young 
friend  Staggs — isn't  he  up  yet?" 

She  said  that  she  thought  not,  slowly  walking  with 
him  toward  the  house. 

"He  is  a  fine  and  spirited  young  man,  madam." 

Why  didn't  she  speak  out  so  that  I  could  hear? 
What  was  that  ?  An  amusing  boy  ?  Oh,  and  was  that 
all?  And  this,  after  my  devotion.  Now  there  was 
but  one  course  for  me  to  pursue,  to  treat  her  with  the 
contempt  she  deserved. 

The  General  greeted  me  cordially  as  I  entered  the 
sitting-room.  Arabella — or  rather  the  widow  of  that 
pretentious  fellow  named  Crenshaw — was  not  present, 
and  it  was  just  as  well  for  her  that  she  was  not.  What 
difference,  however,  could  it  make  to  me?  I  had 
dismissed  her  from  my  mind.  Perhaps  she  was  right. 
Her  age  warranted  the  remark  that  I  was  an  amusing 
boy,  but  after  this  she  would  not  find  me  so  amusing. 
I  would  humiliate  her  with  her  own  ignorance. 

"Of  course  you  haven't  had  time  to  get  your  bear 
ings,"  said  the  General,  "but  how  do  you  like  your 
school  thus  far?" 

"I  am  much  pleased  with  it,  sir." 

"I  am  glad  to  hear  you  say  so.  I  never  attended 
one  half  so  good. ' ' 

''But  to  genius,  sir,"  I  answered,  "one  school  is  as 
good  as  another." 


With  Contempt.  51 

He  smiled,  and  I  can  see  him  now  as  he  stood  on  the 
hearth,  his  back  toward  the  fireplace.  "Young  man, 
genius  is  will.  Creative  force  is  will.  The  meek  tell 
us  that  God  is  love,  but  I  know  that  God  is  will.  And 
they  who  have  within  them  more  of  will  for  good  have 
inherited  more  of  the  spirit  of  the  Master.  Some  of 
the  mightiest  minds  have  been  impatient  of  the  min- 
utia  of  learning.  There  was  many  a  drill  sergeant 
that  could  give  Washington  points,  and  I  cannot 
imagine  Shakespeare  tying  the  wing-tips  of  his  soar 
ing  mind  with  that  hempen  string — a  rule  in  gram 
mar.  Just  now,  sir,  you  paid  me  a  high  compliment, 
inferring  that  I  am  a  genius.  I  am  not ;  I  have  had  a 
disappointment  that  convinced  me.  I  had  thought 
that  to  take  a  seat  in  the  United  States  Senate  would 
surely  develop  certain  latent  powers  that  I  felt  within 
me,  but  upon  attaining  this  exalted  position  I  found 
that  I  was  out  of  place.  Able  men  arose  and  con 
tented  themselves  with  the  splitting  of  hairs  when, 
by  the  Eternal,  I  had  thought  to  see  them  break 
chains.  I  felt  myself  out  of  place,  and  so  I  resigned 
my  seat  and  came  back  home.  If  I  am  to  be  quiet,  let 
me  be  quiet  in  private  life." 

At  this  moment,  the  widow  appeared  at  the  door, 
and  smiling  upon  me — but  it  was  lost — asked  me  if 
I  would  be  so  obliging  as  to  walk  out  to  breakfast. 
The  General  said  that  he  would  come,  too,  and  take  a 
cup  of  coffee. 

"There  is  one  thing  when  I  am  ill  that  I  always 
tell  the  physician,"  he  remarked  as  he  seated  himself 
at  the  table,  "and  that  is  that  he  may  save  himself 
the  trouble  of  ordering  me  to  give  up  coffee  and  to 
bacco.  Dr.  Robinson  once  told  me  that  I  had  to  leave 
off  my  pipe,  and  on  this  occasion  I  came  near  doing 


52  "By  the  Eternal." 

it,  not  because  of  his  advice,  but  because  Mrs.  Jack 
son  decided  in  his  favor;  but,  happily,  I  won  her  over 
to  my  side.  There  is  nothing  so  sweet  as  an  old  pipe, 
and  when  a  man,  who  for  years  has  tasted  of  its 
sweetness,  gives  it  up,  he  lives  the  remainder  of  his 
life  in  impenetrable  solitude.  He  may  attain  riches 
and  see  his  ambitions  rounded  out  to  full  measure, 
but  he  will  be  alone,  with  nothing  to  look  forward  to ; 
he  will  live  in  the  past.  Therefore,  Richard,  don't 
wed  yourself  to  the  habit  of  smoking. ' ' 

"Bravo!"  cried  the  Irishman;  and  Judge  Black 
looked  up  and  remarked: 

"Yes,  and  good  liquor  is  right  hard  to  quit,  too." 

"But  I  should  think,"  said  Crenshaw's  widow, 
"that  a  man  could  give  up  anything  for  the  woman 
he  loves."  The  Irishman's  jaw  dropped.  She  ap 
pealed  to  him:  "Don't  you  think  so,  Professor?" 

"Surely,  surely,"  he  answered,  looking  forward  to 
his  pipe  beneath  the  trees  after  breakfast. 

"What  do  you  think,  Mr.  Richard?"  she  asked  of 
me. 

"It  may  be  an  evidence  of  a  man's  love  when  he 
gives  up  everything,  but  it's  no  proof  of  a  woman's 
love  when  she  asks  it,"  I  answered. 

"Very  reasonable,  sir,"  the  General  spoke  up,  and 
instead  of  showing  resentment,  which  I  thought  she 
would,  the  widow  looked  up  with  a  smile. 

' '  But, ' '  she  said,  ' '  a  woman  must  know  whether  or 
not  a  man  loves  her  before  she  gives  herself  to  him, 
and  she  can't  take  merely  his  word — men  have  so 
many  words  for  women,  you  know.  Don't  you  think 
so,  Professor?" 

"Surely,  surely,"  cried  Mahone. 

"How  easy  it  is  to  be  a  coward,"  I  whispered  to 


With  Contempt.  53 

him,  and  in  a  whisper  he  answered:  "And,  sir,  at 
times  how  impossible  not  to  be." 

I  kept  my  eyes  off  the  woman.  I  was  free  now. 
Cool  judgment  had  emancipated  me;  but  there  was 
such  music  in  her  voice  that  whenever  she  spoke  I 
felt  myself  trembling. 

I  thought  that  the  General  might  have  something 
of  particular  moment  to  say  to  me,  but  he  had  not. 
As  we  were  walking  out  beneath  the  trees  after 
breakfast,  he  said  that  he  had  come  to  town  on  busi 
ness,  as  he  did  nearly  every  day.  "And  no  matter 
what  your  aspirations  are,  you  must  not  despise  busi 
ness,  Richard,"  said  he.  "Such  a  disposition  has 
ruined  many  a  lawyer.  When  I  was  a  candidate  for 
Major  General  of  militia,  it  was  brought  against  me 
that  I  had  kept  a  country  store,  but  I  made  no  denial 
of  it."  He  halted  in  his  speech  and  smiled.  "I  was 
keeping  a  country  store  at  that  time.  The  necessary 
attention  given  to  any  sort  of  business  makes  us  ex 
ecutive,  and  the  most  successful  kings  have  been  men 
of  business.  So,  don't  think  that  success  in  the  prac 
tice  of  the  law  depends  wholly  upon  oratory.  I  was 
thinking  that  it  would  not  be  a  bad  idea  for  you  to 
go  down  to  Harvey's  store,  of  a  Saturday,  and  help 
him  out,  just  for  the  experience." 

Gratitude  sometimes  makes  a  liar  of  a  man,  and  I 
answered  that  I  thought  it  an  excellent  idea.  This 
pleased  him.  And  what  was  it  I  would  not  have  done 
to  have  won" his  approbation? 

He  walked  with  Mahone  and  me  toward  the  school. 
The  poetry  of  the  morning  and  a  smile  from  the 
widow  gave  exuberance  to  the  Irishman's  spirits.  The 
man  who  is  easy  to  cast  down  is  easy  to  elate.  It  is 
stubborn  virtue  that  stands  cool  upon  a  knoll  of  the 


54  "By  the  Eternal." 

middle  ground,  knowing  not  moments  of  supreme  hap 
piness  because  unacquainted  with  the  depths  of 
misery.  Mahone  knew  both  extremes,  and  I  believe 
nearly  all  Irishmen  do.  If  they  do  not,  charge  the 
failure  to  their  nearness  to  Scotland. 

"You  seem  to  be  happy  this  morning,"  said  the 
General. 

"I  am  that  same,  sir,"  Mahone  answered. 

"Creditable  to  a  good  night's  rest,  I  presume." 

"Ah,  to  a  good  morning  and  a  look,  sir." 

"The  Widow  Crenshaw?" 

"The  same,  sir.  She  has  as  good  as  confessed  that 
my  love  is  not  in  vain. ' ' 

"You  are  hopeful,"  said  the  General,  and  in  a  sec- 
ond  it  seemed  that  the  uplifting  spring  fell  out  of  the 
Irishman's  walk. 

"Do  you  think  it  was  only  my  hope,  sir?  Do  you 
think  that?  I  thought  it  was  the  look  that  gave  me 
the  hope,  forgetting  that  out  of  my  own  hope  might 
have  come  what  I  thought  to  be  the  look.  You  gen 
tlemen  walk  on.  I  will  return  to  the  house  just  for  a 
moment,  to  satisfy  myself." 

We  halted  and  the  General  apologized.  "I  have 
discouraged  you,  sir,  and  I  regret  it." 

"Oh,  not  at  all,"  the  Irishman  declared,  bat  I 
could  see  that  his  heart  was  low.  He  turned  back,  and 
we  walked  on,  slowly.  "She  will  never  marry  him," 
said  the  General.  I  was  silent,  wondering  whom  she 
would  marry.  "She  was  never  happy  with  her  hus 
band,"  the  General  remarked. 

"You  surprise  me,  sir.  I  thought  that  she  and  her 
husband  were  devoted  to  each  other." 

"Oh,  no.  She  was  much  Crenshaw 's  superior.  And 
besides,  he  was  not  a  brave  man.  No  matter  how 


With  Contempt.  55 

timid  a  woman  may  be,  she  has  a  contempt  for  a  man 
when  she  discovers  that  he  is  wanting  in  physical 
courage.  One  night  at  a  ball  a  man  asked  Mrs.  Cren- 
shaw  to  dance  with  him.  She  declined  and  he  said 
something  rude  to  her.  She  told  her  husband.  He 
demanded  an  apology  from  the  fellow.  It  was  not 
given,  and  Crenshaw — took  his  wife  home,  sir.  After 
that  they  did  not  get  along  well  together.  She  has 
her  faults,  but  Mrs.  Jackson  and  I  are  very  fond  of 
her.  If  she  were  faultless,  she  would  not  seem  so 
much  a  daughter  to  me.  I  have  never  known  but  one 
faultless  woman — Mrs.  Jackson,  sir;  and  Heaven  sent 
her  to  me,  not  as  a  reward  for  any  good  I  may  have 
done,  but  as  a  stimulus  toward  good  in  the  future." 

He  halted  and  looked  back  over  the  pathway. 
"Well,  I  will  leave  you  here,  with  another  assurance 
that  as  soon  as  Mrs.  Jackson  returns,  you  shall  break 
bread  at  our  house.  Ah,  one  word  more  concerning 
Mrs.  Crenshaw:  I  take  you  to  be  a  sensible  young 
fellow,  and  therefore  it  may  not  be  necessary  to  warn 
you,  but  you  must  know  that  she  is  careless  with — 
hearts.  Here  comes  your  friend." 

He  bade  me  good  morning,  striding  down  the  hill 
as  he  strode  before,  as  if  he  had  conquered  every  foot 
of  it;  and  I  waited  for  Mahone,  observing  long  be 
fore  he  came  up  to  where  I  stood  that  his  spirits  were 
heavy. 

' '  I  walk  on  the  earth  a  dead  man,  Master  Richard. ' ' 

"Yes,  but  your  death  doesn't  give  you  the  leave  to 
call  me  Master  Richard.  I  am  nearly  twenty  years 
old,  sir." 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Richard,  but  a  dead  man 
ought  not  to  be  accountable  for  what  he  says.  I 
went  back  there  and  she  killed  me.  She  says,  says  she, 


56  "By  the  Eternal." 

sitting  on  a  chain  with  one  pretty  foot  on  a  stool — a 
negro  girl  brushing  her  hair — 'oh,'  says  she,  'why 
did  you  come  back  so  soon?'  All  of  my  wits  flew 
away,  and  like  the  fool  that  I  was,  I  said  that  I  had 
come  back  after  my  pipe ;  and  she  pouted  and  tapped 
her  foot  upon  the  stool  and  answered :  '  Oh,  I  thought 
you  told  me  you'd  quit  smoking.'  It  was  then  that 
I  became  a  corpse — a  most  ordinary  and  uninterest 
ing  corpse." 

We  were  now  near  the  school  and  he  slackened  his 
pace,  remarking  as  he  dragged  his  feet  along :  ' '  Last 
night  for  a  time  you  made  me  sick  with  jealousy,  but 
then  I  discovered  that  she  cared  nothing  for  you." 

"You  did,  did  you?  And  I  wish  you  to  understand 
that  I  don't  give  a  snap  for  her." 

This  did  not  offend  him.  Indeed,  he  was  so  grate 
ful  that  he  halted  and  insisted  upon  shaking  hands 
with  me. 


"IT    WAS    THEN    THAT    I    BECAME    A    CORPSE." 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

A  PERFUMED  NIGHT. 

AMONG  the  members  of  my  class  in  a  very  pre 
tentious  study,  and  of  which  we  learned  but 
little  save  a  few  names — in  our  class  in  as 
tronomy  was  a  young  fellow  named  Atcherson.  We 
sat  at  the  same  desk  where  we  could  look  out  through 
a  window  upon  the  green  country.  On  this,  my  sec 
ond  morning,  Atcherson  said  to  me :  "  The  Irishman 
is  deep  down  in  the  valley  to-day.  The  widow  must 
have  winked  at  you.  And  she'll  wink  at  anybody. 
There's  no  more  sympathy  in  her  heart  than  there  is 
in  a  catamount's.  Oh,  I  know  her — I  had  my  whirl 
with  her — I  wasn't  much  over  seventeen,  but  I  had 
my  whirl,  just  as  you  will  have — just  as  everybody 
has.  I  boarded  there  for  a  week.  I  was  born  and 
brought  up  in  Philadelphia,  and  necessarily  must 
have  seen  a  good  many  women,  but  I  never  saw  one 
to  equal  her." 

"But  she's  ignorant,  isn't  she?"  I  ventured,  and 
he  answered :  ' '  Don 't  you  fool  yourself  there.  She 's 
read  more  than  either  of  us  ever  did.  She  is  the  dove 
that's  as  wise  as  the  serpent.  Cal  Lismukes  is  a  sort 
of  cousin  of  hers,  but  she  wrung  his  heart  like  wring 
ing  the  neck  of  a  chicken — and  they  say  that  he  lay 
down  on  the  ground  and  actually  bawled." 

"But,"  said  I,  with  a  sore  spot  in  my  mind,  if  not 
in  my  heart,  ' '  I  believe  she  will  marry  Mahone. ' ' 

"He's  got  just  as  much  chance  in  the  next  world, 
57 


58  "By  the  Eternal." 

where  they  are  not  given  in  marriage.  I'm  sorry  for 
him,  for  he's  a  good  fellow  and  as  game  as  a  pea-' 
cock." 

I  was  not  happy  during  that  day ;  I  was  sorry  for 
Mahone.  As  for  myself — why,  I  was  thoroughly 
cured.  That  night  there  was  company  in  our  sitting- 
room,  young  women  and  young  men,  but  I  gave  to 
them  none  of  my  attention.  I  gathered  my  book  and 
sat  down  in  a  corner  alone ;  but  I  tore  out  a  leaf  and 
chewed  it  up,  hating  all  the  world,  and  especially 
that  woman  who  stood  smiling  in  her  devilish  grace. 
After  a  time  she  came  over  to  me  and  said : 

"Old  Luke,  the  fiddler,  has  come  and  we  are  going 
to  have  a  dance.  Won't  you  please  join  us?  Please, 
come  on  and  dance  with  me,  won't  you?" 

I  didn  't  wish  to  create  a  scene ;  I  hoped  that  I  was 
a  gentleman,  so  I  yielded.  And  when  the  company 
were  all  gone  and  I  was  lying  in  bed,  I  mused  in  deep 
self-reproach  that  I  had  been  exceedingly  happy. 
Then  followed  days  when  I  did  not  seem  to  know  any 
thing.  I  sat  with  Atcherson,  and  in  a  sort  of  skeleton 
way  I  walked  with  Mahone,  of  an  evening,  but  all 
was  vague. 

One  evening — it  must  have  been  a  week  later — the 
Irishman's  services  were  required  at  the  school,  and 
I  was  left  at  home,  alone  with  Arabella.  For  a  time 
the  stupid  Harvey  had  sat  about,  contributing  an  oc 
casional  husk,  some  bit  of  fodder,  relative  to  trade; 
but  finally  he  went  down  to  the  emporium,  thinking, 
doubtless,  that  he  might  possibly  sell  a  yard  of  red 
calico.  And  now  we  were  alone,  I  and  this  princess. 
How  I  had  misjudged  her;  how  envy  had  slandered 
her.  It  could  not  be  denied  that  she  had  wrought 
misery,  but  this  was  no  fault  of  her  own ;  it  was  the 


A  Perfumed  Night.  59 

fault  of  the  riot  that  nature  had  run  with  her,  of  the 
wasteful  glory  of  her  hair,  the  re-caught  and  intensi 
fied  Paradise  light  in  her  eyes.  We  walked  across 
the  room  to  look  at  a  picture  that  I  had  seen  a  hun 
dred  times,  and  returning,  shoulders  touching,  sat 
down  together  on  a  sofa.  The  windows  were  up,  and 
from  a  garden  of  roses  nearby,  there  came  a  breeze 
ladened  with  a  perfume  rich  almost  to  intoxication. 
Had  there  ever  been  such  another  night?  The  moon 
was  at  the  full,  and  birds  that  had  followed  civiliza 
tion  from  the  older  haunts  of  men,  poured  forth  their 
melody — tribute  to  this  most  wondrous  hour  of  sky 
and  air. 

"At  one  time  you  were  angry  at  me,"  she  said, 
and  a  stupid,  intoxicated  calf  replied,  "At  you?" 

"Yes.  For  days  at  a  time  you  scarcely  spoke  to 
me." 

And  a  liar  answered:  "I  was  deep  in  the  study 
of  my  books — to  make  myself  more  worthy  of  your 
regard. ' ' 

"How  aptly  spoken  you  are.  You  must  already 
have  studied  hard." 

' '  No,  for  not  until  lately  did  I  have  an  incentive. ' ' 

"And  where  did  you  find  one  lately?" 

"In  this  house." 

"This  house,"  she  said  looking  upward,  her  eyes 
throwing  light  upon  the  ceiling,  "it  is  not  old,  but  it 
has  a  history.  It  was  to  this  place  that  Mr.  Cren- 
shaw  brought  me — a  girl,  a  mere  child — 

"Oh,  let  us  not  talk  about  him,"  I  moaned. 

"Why  not,  pray?    Wasn't  he  my  husband?" 

"Yes,  and  that's  the  reason  I  don't  want  to  talk 
about  him.  Arabella,  listen  to  me,  I — " 

"Why  Richard!" 


60  "By  the  Eternal.'' 

"You  must  listen— you  shall.  In  your  sight  I  may 
be  only  an  amusing  boy,  but  I  shall  soon  be  a  man— 
I'm  growing  old  very  fast  now — have  been  for  some 
time,  and  I  have  prospects  in  Virginia  that  will  make 
me  rich.  I  love  you  and  I  offer  you  everything." 

"And  your  horse,  too,  Richard?" 

"Oh,  everything— my  life." 

"But  what  am  I  to  do  with  all  this?  What  use  am 
I  to  make  of  it  all,  and  what  compensation  can  I 
offer?" 

"Is  it  possible  you  don't  catch  my  meaning?"  I 
groaned.  ' '  Arabella,  you  must  be  my  wife. ' ' 

"Oh,  Richard,  how  you  shock  me.  Marry  you!  I 
couldn't  think  of  such  a  thing.  Why,  what  would 
General  Jackson  say?" 

"He  would  say  that  you'd  make  a  man  of  me.  Ara 
bella  I—" 

"Oh,  but  Richard,  I  haven't  time  to  be  making 
men  out  of  boys,  you  know." 

"But  if  you  did  not  intend  to  marry  me,  why  did 
you  encourage  me?" 

"Encourage  you!  Why  how  can  you  say  that?  Of 
course  I  have  encouraged  you  in  a  way,  because  I  do 
think  so  much  of  you — more  of  you  than  of  anybody 
in  the  world,  so  there,  doesn't  that  satisfy  you?" 

Satisfy  me !  It  brought  about  a  greater  hunger,  a 
starvation;  and  I  dropped  upon  my  knees.  Sudden 
ly  she  sprang  to  her  feet  with  a  cry:  "Cousin  Cal 
Lismukes,  where  did  you  come  from?" 

Before  I  could  possibly  spring  to  my  feet — afad 
I  was  not  slow — I  saw  him,  standing  at  the  window, 
holding  the  curtain  aside,  looking  in  upon  us.  Ara 
bella  flew  to  the  door,  opened  it  and  called  him,  but 
he  continued  to  stand  at  the  window,  with  his  eyes 


A  Perfumed  Night.  61 

fixed  on  me.  She  went  out  after  him,  brought  him 
iijto  the  hall-way  and  led  him  into  the  room. 

"Cousin  Cal  Lismukes,  this  is  my  young  friend 
Kichard— I  mean  Mr.  Staggs." 

He  gave  me  a  short  nod.  "How  are  you,  Mr. 
Staggs?" 

I  gave  him  a  nod  as  short  as  his  own  and  told  him 
that  I  was  well,  a  fact  which  I  expected  soon  to  be 
compelled  to  prove  to  him. 

"Please  be  seated,"  said  Arabella.  "Cousin  Cal, 
you  sit  over  here  on  the  sofa  by  me." 

He  sat  down  beside  her,  and  she  looked  up  at  him 
with  a  smile  that  made  me  sick  at  heart;  and  meet 
ing  her  look  he  said: 

"Don't  shut  off  your  smile,  Arabella,  There's  no 
harm  in  it  for  me  now — I  am  cured.  But  I  see  you 
are  up  to  your  old  tricks.  How  long  have  you  known 
this  fellow?  Ten  minutes?" 

' '  Sir ! "  I  exclaimed,  but  with  mellow  laughter  Ara 
bella  drowned  me  into  silence.  "Why,  Cousin  Cal, 
he  lives  here — goes  to  the  Academy. ' ' 

"Oh,  he  does." 

How  I  hated  him!  How  my  blood  stewed  as  I 
looked  at  him. 

"I  have  just  returned,"  said  he,  "found  my  room 
mate  drunk,  the  inn  stocked  up  two  in  a  bed,  and 
I'd  like  to  find  lodgings  here  tonight." 

"I  haven't  a  spare  bed,  Cousin  Cal,  but  perhaps 
Mr.  Eichard  wouldn  't  mind  sharing  his  bed  with  you. 
I  know  he  would  to  oblige  me." 

"Surely,"  I  cried,  in  imitation  of  Mahone,  but  my 
cry  was  weak. 

"No,  we  won't  put  things  to  that  strain,"  he  said. 
"I'll  go  over  on  the  hill  and  if  Jim  isn't  sober  enough 


62  "By  the  Eternal." 

to  sleep  with,  I'll  throw  him  out.  Good-night,  Mr, 
Staggs,"  he  said,  showing  no  disposition  to  depart. 

"Yes,  good  night,  Richard,"  she  rang  in  her  silver 
bell  to  chime  with  that  cankered  brass.  "I'll  see  you 
in  the  morning.  Pleasant  dreams!" 

Thus  was  I  driven  out,  and  fuming  I  trod  my  way 
up  to  bed.  In  the  dark  I  stroked  my  pistols,  with  my 
mind  on  that  brute.  How  any  woman  could  think  of 
loving  him — how  any  woman  could  call  him  even 
cousin !  Tall,  high  shouldered,  angular,  with  a  snarl 
for  a  mouth  and  two  evil  lights  for  eyes,  he  was  a 
man  to  be  shunned.  I  say  a  man,  for  he  must  have 
been  nearing  thirty,  and  I  couldn't  see  what  object 
he  had  in  attending  the  school,  but  soon  I  learned 
that  he  was  there  only  as  a  student  of  the  law.  The 
Irishman's  assertion  that  I  was  likely  to  have  trouble 
with  this  fellow  was  not  to  be  wondered  at,  for  now 
in  my  heart  I  felt  that  I  should  be  compelled  to  kill 
him.  I  heard  him  take  his  leave  of  her.  I  went  to 
the  window  and  looked  down  upon  them  as  they 
stood  on  the  flag-stones  that  paved  the  way  from  the 
front  door  to  the  gate. 

' '  Oh,  I  'm  not  going  to  have  any  trouble  with  him, ' ' 
I  heard  Lismukes  say,  as  she  stood  near  him,  seeming- 
ly  looking  up  into  his  face ;  and  I  knew  that  she  had 
been  pleading  for  me.  "Why  should  I?"  he  went 
on.  "It's  nothing  to  me  how  much  any  fool  thinks 
of  you.  You  didn't  care  anything  for  me  and  werei 
honest  enough  to  tell  me  so.  Why  don't  you  be  equal 
ly  honest  with  him?" 

"Why,  Cousin  Cal,  he  is  a  mere  boy." 

"Then  why  don't  you  box  his  jaws  if  he's  too  young 
to  understand  what  you  tell  him?  You  can  tell  some 
people  plainly  enough." 


A  Perfumed  Night.  63 

' '  I  told  you  I  loved  you  as  a  cousin, ' '  she  answered 
in  a  voice  sweet  and  low. 

' '  Oh,  that  was  all  right, ' '  he  answered.  ' '  I  got  over 
it  in  a  day — hurt  my  pride  a  little  at  first  and  that 
was  all.  I  am  not  a  man  to  favor  any  woman  long — 
I'm  not  put  up  that  way.  The  best  thing  you  ever 
did  for  me  was  to  refuse  to  marry  me.  Why,  the 
man  that  marries  you  will  have  to  shoot  some  fellow 
at  least  every  other  day — or  night." 

"If  I  didn't  know  you  so  well  I  should  feel  in 
sulted.  But,"  she  laughed,  "having  to  kill  a  fellow 
every  other  day — or  night — wouldn't  inconvenience 
you;  it  would  be  to  your  liking." 

"Would  it?  Well,  I  haven't  committed  murder 
yet,  and  that's  some  little  credit." 

"You  have  shaded  it  pretty  close,  however,  Cousin 
Calvin.  It  took  you  some  time  to  explain  to  a  very 
easy  court  why  you  killed  young  Nevins;  and  I've 
heard  that  if  General  Jackson  had  been  judge  at  the 
time  you  would  have  stretched  hemp.  These  were  the 
words  of — " 

"Jackson  himself,  I  reckon,"  he  broke  in.  "But 
that's  all  right  as  far  as  it  goes,  but  it  doesn't  lead  to 
anything.  The  question  is,  are  you  going  to  let  me 
have  the  money?" 

"I  would  if  I  could,  cousin,  but  I  really  cannot.  I 
should  have  to  mortgage  my  house." 

"Well,  that  would  be  all  right.  I'd  take  it  up  on 
time." 

"No,  I  will  not  risk  it." 

"Then  I  withdraw  my  promise." 

"What  promise?" 

' '  That  I  will  not  seek  trouble  with  that  young  fool. '  * 

"Oh,  Cousin  Calvin,  you  couldn't  have  chosen  a 


64  "By  the  Eternal." 

poorer  way  to  threaten  me.  Good-night.  Let  us  part 
friends,  won't  you?" 

''I  must  part  with  a  better  understanding  concern 
ing  the  thousand  dollars.  I  tell  you  I  must  have  it, 
to  save  the  old  home  in  North  Carolina." 

"Good-night,  pleasant  dreams,"  she  said. 

' '  Good-night,  and  no  promises, ' '  he  answered,  turn 
ing  abruptly  from  her  and  striding  rapidly  toward 
the  gate. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

IN  THE  INTEREST  OF  ANOTHER. 

WHEN  a  fool  is  suddenly  cured,  it  would  seem 
that  the  days  of  miracles  were  not  yet  over.  On 
the  following  morning,  I  went  down  the  stairs 
cured,  not  of  my  admiration  for  Mrs.  Crenshaw,  but 
of  my  blind  folly  toward  Arabella.  On  this  day 
there  was  no  session  of  the  school,  the  day  being  Sat 
urday,  and  I  sought  an  early  opportunity  to  "ex 
plain"  myself  to  the  widow.  There  was  nothing  to 
explain,  it  is  true, — nothing  to  say  except  to  assure 
her  that  I  had  been  foolish,  of  which  there  was  no 
need;  but  it  seemed  to  me  that  I  had  something  of 
almost  desperate  importance  to  say  to  her.  And  as 
I  sat  at  the  breakfast  table,  staring  out  into  the  yard, 
I  wondered  if  the  world  would  look  the  same  after 
I  had  said  it.  Would  that  bush  with  its  pink  flowers 
be  just  as  bright?  Would  that  robin's  song  be  just 
as  full  of  melody?  Then  I  wondered  as  to  what  I 
vras  going  to  say  to  her,  and  then  sat  speechless  as 
to  what  I  could  possibly  say.  At  the  head  of  the 
table,  in  her  short  sleeves — and  somehow  I  could  al 
ways  see  her  arms — she  poured  the  coffee,  and  her 
voice  belonged  to  the  sweet  clear  notes  of  the  morn 
ing,  and  her  eyes  were  of  the  garden  where  the  dew 
was  sparkling.  Yes,  I  came  down  the  stairs  cured  of 
my  folly;  still  I  didn't  exactly  like  the  smile  she  gave 
lo  the  Irishman. 

Remembering  the   General's  suggestion  regarding 
65 


66  "By  the  Eternal." 

my  holiday  employment  at  Harvey's  store,  I  spoke  to 
the  merchant,  who  sat  opposite  me,  offering  my  ser 
vices.  He  had  not  the  graciousness  to  thank  me,  but 
he  did  not  appear  displeased,  and  so  long  as  Com 
merce  does  not  frown,  you  have  not  committed  against 
it  an  unpardonable  sin. 

"Oh,  you  can  come  in  whenever  you  feel  like  it. 
Glad  to  have  you  and  all  that,  but  I  can't  use  you — 
got  two  clerks  already." 

"I  should  think  it  would  be  charming  to  sell 
goods,"  said — well,  I  had  determined  to  think  of  her 
as  Arabella  until  after  my  final  "explanation"  with 
her. 

"Don't  you  think  it  would  be  just  as  charming  to 
buy  'em?"  Judge  Black  spoke  up. 

"To  wear  them,"  she  suggested,  beaming  in  turn 
upon  us  all. 

"The  woman  spoke  that  time,"  said  Harvey;  and 
I  wondered  if  he  were  quite  as  much  mutton-head  as 
he  looked. 

"What  do  you  know  about  women?"  the  Judge 
inquired. 

' '  What  do  I  know  about  them  ?  Funny  question  to 
ask  me,  Judge.  I  know  all  about  them.  I  am  a  busi 
ness  man." 

"But  does  that  give  you  any  particular  insight  in 
to  woman's  character?" 

"Of  course.  For  woman,  with  all  her  sentiment  is 
— business. ' ' 

The  brute.  I  looked  at  Arabella,  and  had  she  given 
me  the  slightest  encouragement  I  would  have  thrown 
him  out  of  the  dining-room. 

"Mr.  Harvey  hasn't  a  very  high  opinion  of  us," 
she  said. 


In  the  Interest  of  Another.  67 

"Oh,  yes,"  he  answered.  "Woman  is  very  neces 
sary.  ' ' 

"Is  it  possible ! ' '  she  cried.    ' ' What  an  admission. ' ' 

"Sir,"  gallantly  roared  the  Judge,  "woman  rounds 
out  and  completes  the  glory  of  creation.  Sir,  your 
mother  was  a  woman." 

"Yes,  a  fact  attested  by  my  own  recollection,  by 
tradition  and  the  family  Bible.  She  is  still  living,  in 
Virginia,  and  adorns  a  charming  circle  in  society. 
And  whenever  I  meet  a  woman  with  as  many  as  one- 
third  of  her  virtues  I  '11  marry  her  or  find  out  the  rea 
son  why  I  can't." 

The  Judge  bowed.  "You  have  redeemed  yourself, 
sir,"  he  said. 

During  this  time  the  Irishman  had  said  nothing. 
Now  he  spoke.  ' '  The  Anglo-Saxon  turns  to  his  mother 
with  affection  and  admiration — the  Irishman  turns  to 
his  mother  with  love  and  with  tears.  He  recalls  her 
sad  song  as  she  labored  from  morning  till  late  in  the 
night,  battling  against  oppression,  starving  herself  to 
give  him  a  start  in  life.  And  if  there  had  been  no 
heaven,  justice  would  have  created  one  for  her." 

Mahone  had  spoken  with  much  feeling,  and  it 
pleased  me  when  Arabella  smiled  upon  him,  which  she 
did  as  a  reward,  and  I  saw  him  tremble  and  I  knew 
that  his  great  heart  was  arising  strong  within  him. 
But  after  breakfast  I  wished  that  he  would  go  away, 
to  give  me  an  opportunity  to  explain.  When  the 
others  had  taken  their  leave,  he  and  I  sat  in  the  shade 
on  the  front  veranda.  I  asked  him  if  he  had  seen  Lis- 
mukes. 

"No,  has  he  come  back?" 

' '  He  returned  last  night  and  I  met  him,  and  he  in 
sulted  me." 


68  "By  the  Eternal." 

"He  couldn't  have  helped  that,  sir.  His  mere 
presence  was  quite  enough  for  that.  He  is  a  desper 
ate  fellow,  and  you  must  pocket  up  a  wrong  or  cock 
a  pistol." 

"I  have  two,"  I  answered. 

He  placed  his  hand  upon  my  arm.  "To  fight  for 
cause  is  a  virtue,  but  patience  is  a  virtue,  too.  Ee- 
member  that." 

"Yes,  and  I'll  have  patience  until  the  time  comes, 
and  then  he  will  force  me  to  kill  him." 

"He  is  a  fine  shot,  Richard.  You  can't  shoot  him 
down  in  the  road — you'll  have  to  meet  him  according 
to  custom.  And  when  you  do,  escape  on  your  part 
will  be  almost  a  miracle.  It  is  well  enough  to  be 
brave,  but  it's  a  crime  to  throw  your  life  away." 

"But  he  is  going  to  pick  a  quarrel  with  me.  I 
heard  him  say  as  much,  to  Arabella,  as  he  was  taking 
his  leave  of  her  last  night,  standing  out  there  near 
the  gate ;  and  she  pleaded  with  him  in  my  behalf. ' ' 

"Angel  that  she  is,"  he  replied.  "Ah,  did  you  see 
the  look  she  gave  me  this  morning?  And  surely, 
Richard,  in  that  look  there  must  have  been  love." 

I  was  willing  that  he  should  be  "characteristic," 
but  he  was  never  interesting  when  he  speculated  upon 
Arabella's  looks  or  intentions — relative  to  himself. 
From  some  distant  part  of  the  house  came  her  voice, 
singing ;  and  looking  at  this  man,  my  friend,  I  saw  his 
blood  leap.  With  regard  to  my  feelings  toward  her  I 
was  deceiving  him.  But  I  would  do  so  no  longer. 

"Professor — my  friend,"  said  I,  "you  have  shown 
me  your  heart,  with  Arabella  pictured  upon  it,  but  I 
have  not  shown  you  mine,  with  that  same  picture  there 
in  purple.  Last  night  I  declared  my  love  for  her, 


In  the  Interest  of  Another.  69 

but  this  morning  I  am  going  to  withdraw  it  and  stand 
as  advocate  of  your  cause." 

He  clutched  my  arm,  and  we  sat  staring  at  each 
other,  earnest  and  ' '  mottled  fools  in  the  forest. ' '  He 
muttered,  and  I  knew  that  his  grateful  heart,  muffled 
in  its  own  emotion,  was  striving  to  express  grati 
tude.  Man,  drowning  in  the  sea  of  love  not  only 
clutches  at  the  straw,  but  at  the  fleeting  shadow 
thrown  by  the  insect's  gossamer  wing.  "Leave  me 
alone  with  her  for  a  short  time  this  morning, ' '  said  I ; 
' '  go  over  into  the  valley  and  smoke  your  pipe  beneath 
the  red  haw  tree." 

Simultaneously  we  arose,  moved  by  the  resolve  of 
one  great  purpose.  He  grasped  my  hand,  and  doubt 
less  in  unconscious  reminiscence  of  some  old  Dublin 
play,  he  said:  "I  go." 

I  went  with  him  to  the  gate  and  opened  it  for  him. 
He  passed  through  but  halted  and  faced  about.  "Yes, 
I  go."  The  distance  was  not  more  than  half  a  mile 
but  it  was  a  "sentimental  journey,"  and  the  signifi 
cance  of  such  journeys  is  not  measured  by  the  county 
surveyor.  "Richard,  in  your  hands  I  placa  my  fu 
ture.  I  have  not  had  the  courage  to  tell  her  of  my 
love,  but  you  tell  her.  She  has  a  high  opinion  of  your 
veracity  and  I  think  she  will  believe  you.  Withdraw 
ing  in  my  favor  you  show  the  unselfish  nobility  of 
your  nature.  I  would  have  done  the  same  for  you — 
will  do  it  now  if  you  say  so." 

He  made  as  if  he  would  open  the  gate,  to  re-enter 
the  yard,  but  in  his  eyes  there  was  a  look  that  begged 
me  to  shove  him  out  into  the  road,  to  knock  him  down, 
to  keep  him  from  the  sacrifice. 

"To  the  red  haw  tree,"  I  commanded.  1  had  seen 
a  play  myself,  in  Raleigh,  done  by  a  company  that 


70  "By  the  Eternal." 

brought  medals  from  London  and  exhibited  them  on 
a  board,  leaning  against  the  front  entrance  of  the  liv 
ery  stable. 

In  violent  gratitude  he  grasped  my  hand,  pressed 
it  against  the  top  bar  of  the  gate  and  said :  "I  thank 
you."  With  that  he  turned  quickly  and  hastened 
away.  Now  had  I  taken  upon  myself  the  greatest 
mission  of  my  life,  and  slowly  I  walked  back  toward 
the  house.  I  heard  Arabella  singing  as  she  came  down 
the  stairs  and  going  into  the  sitting-room  I  waited  for 
her,  bold  in  the  magnanimity  of  my  cause — until  she 
entered,  and  then  my  hands  fell  off  into  embarrassed 
fumblings,  and  I  squeaked  that  I  had  something  of 
importance  to  say  to  her. 

"But  for  pity  sake  don't  be  so  scared  about  it," 
she  answered,  plucking  a  rose  from  her  hair  and  play 
fully  throwing  it  at  me.  Confound  it,  could  woman 
never  be  fair  in  her  dealings  with  a  heart?  I  caught 
the  rose  and  pressed  it  to  my  lips.  The  despot 
laughed.  She  sat  down  on  the  sofa  and  bade  me  sit 
beside  her.  Through  the  window  a  ray  of  sunlight 
streamed  and  revealed  a  yellowish  spot  on  her  cheek. 
How  slight  a  defect  in  woman  will  sometimes  serve  to 
make  a  man  strong  with  her! 

"Arabella." 

"Sir!" 

"Mrs.  Crenshaw." 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Last  night  I  was  very  foolish." 

"With  my  Cousin  Calvin?" 

"With  you.  Your  Cousin  Calvin  doesn't  exist,  so 
far  as  I  am  concerned." 

"Sophomoric  declaimer,  they  will  send  you  to  the 
legislature.  But  proceed.  You  were  foolish  with  me, 


In  the  Interest  of  Another.  71 

and  now  you  are  going  to  be  foolish  again.    Eh?" 

That  "eh"  was  a  pop  to  a  silken  whip.  "No,  I  am 
going  to  be  strong  with  you. ' ' 

She  shouted  with  laughter,  snatched  the  rose  out 
of  my  hand,  plucked  off  a  leaf,  puffed  it  towards  me, 
like  a  thistle-down,  and  asked  me  if  she  should  bring 
the  rope. 

"The  rope?    What  for?" 

"I  didn't  know  but  in  your  strength  you  were  go 
ing  to  tie  my  hands. ' ' 

"I  would  rather  tie  your  heart." 

"Now  you  are  getting  weak  again,"  she  said,  pre 
tending  disappointment.  "I  hoped  you  were  going 
to  be  strong — I  like  to  look  at  men  when  they  are 
strong. ' ' 

"I  am  not  going  to  be  weak,  Mrs.  Crenshaw. " 

"Oh,  then  you  are  going  to  disappoint  me.  I  didn't 
think  you'd  do  that.  Are  you  going  to  tell  me  what 
an  old  fright  I  am?  That's  the  way  men  are  strong 
with  women.  What  are  you  going  to  do?" 

"Arabella." 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Last  night  I  told  you  I  loved  you." 

"Did  you?  Oh,  of  course  you  did,  just  as  Cousin 
Calvin  appeared  at  the  window.  How  embarrassing 
that  must  have  been — for  you." 

' '  Will  you  please  be  serious  with  me  ? "  I  implored, 
and  she  answered :  ' '  Not  if  you  are  going  to  be  seri 
ous  with  me." 

"But  I  am  going  to  be  serious  and,  therefore,  sen 
sible  with  myself,"  I  insisted.  "You  persist  in  re 
garding  me  as  a  mere  boy,  and — " 

"As  a  boy  somewhat  overgrown  intellectually," 
she  broke  in — "as  a  pedantic  boy.  And  don't  you 


72  "By  the  Eternal." 

know  that  such  boys  can  make  themselves  very  disa 
greeable  to  women?" 

"Mrs.  Crenshaw,  I  am  not  to  be  driven  from  my 
purpose." 

"Gracious  me,  child,  then  let  us  get  at  it,  whatever 
it  is." 

"I  don't  like  that  tone." 

"Of  course  not,  but  the  purpose.    Let  us  get  at  it." 

"I  am  here  to  acknowledge  that  last  night  I  was 
exceedingly  foolish." 

"Yes,  go  ahead,  but  you  have  already  acknowledged 
that." 

"Well,  then,  let  me  now  accent  the  acknowledg 
ment  by  withdrawing  from  my  former  position." 

"Why  then,  you  don't  love  me  any  longer?" 

She  plucked  at  my  sleeve  and  I  knew  that  her  eyes 
•were  searching  for  mine,  but  I  knew  that  to  meet  them 
would  mean  surrender,  and  so,  bowed  over,  I  gazed 
down  at  the  floor. 

"No  one  can  help  loving  you,"  I  said.  "You  are 
surely  not  the  handsomest  woman  in  the  world,  but  I 
do  believe  you  are  one  of  the  most  powerful.  You 
have  a  thousand  little'  traps,  baited  with  graces,  and 
these  traps  are  constantly  snapping ;  but  I  am  reciting 
to  you  your  own  primer." 

"Your  own  poem,  Mr.  Richard." 

"Snap  went  another  trap,"  I  replied,  and  my  blood 
danced  to  the  music  of  a  jingling  rhyme — she  was 
laughing.  When  she  ceased  laughing  she  said  that 
she  was  listening.  That  is  a  way  a  woman  has  of 
assuring  a  man  that  whatever  he  may  say  can  possess 
no  interest  for  her. 

' '  Mrs.  Crenshaw,  let  us  be  friends. ' ' 

"Yes,  dear  friends,"  she  answered  quickly,   and 


In  the  Interest  of  Another.  73 

again  she  plucked  at  my  sleeve,  but  I  did  not  look  up 
at  her. 

"Entertaining  the  sentiment  of  friendship  rather 
than  the  sentimentality  of  love,"  I  said. 

"Put  aside  Clarissa  Harlowe  and  tell  me  what  you 
mean,"  she  replied. 

"I  do  not  need  to  put  aside  something  which  I 
have  not  taken  up,  but  I  can  tell  you  what  I  mean.  I 
am  now  talking  in  the  interest  of  another. ' ' 

"I  should  not  have  suspected  it." 

"But  I  am — of  a  man  who  loves  you  down  to  the 
depths  of  measureless  devotion ;  a  man,  the  most  hon 
orable  of  his — of  his  sex — Professor  Mahone.  I  have 
crushed  myself  to  withdraw  in  his  favor,  and  I  urge 
you  to  listen  to  his  suit." 

4 '  You  silly  boy,  look  at  me  and  let  me  tell  you  some 
thing." 

"I  must  not  look  at  you.  If  I  did,  you  could  tell 
me  only  one  thing  to  make  me  listen — that  you  love 
me." 

' '  What  a  March  hare  you  are ;  but  if  you  withhold 
your  eyes  you  will  at  least  grant  me  your  ears.  Per 
haps  in  many  respects  I  am  the  silliest  creature  you 
have  ever  met.  I  love  admiration — it  seems  my  very 
air,  but  at  times  I  can  be  sensible  and  I  am  going  to 
be  sensible  now.  I  know  that  my  time  is  slipping 
away,  and  that  I  should  be  making  the  most  of  it,  but 
I  am  not.  I  am  shaking  the  dewdrops  from  the 
honey-suckle — trying  to  catch  them  in  my  mouth.  No 
matter  how  much  I  might  love  you  I  couldn't  marry 
you.  You  are  only  an  intoxicated  boy,  threatening 
even  now  to  open  your  eyes  and  to  find  yourself 
sober. ' ' 

"But  I  am  not  asking  you  to  marry  me." 


74  "By  the  Eternal." 

"Ah,  you  are  sober." 

She  plucked  again  at  my  sleeve  and  I  looked  into 
her  eyes  and  they  were  laughing  at  me. 

"You  are  a  charming,  great,  big,  awkward  boy, 
Richard,  and  one  of  these  days  the  community 's  finest 
woman  will  be  proud  to  call  you  husband.  And  now, 
after  I  have  told  you  so  much,  won't  you  promise  me 
something — that  you  will  try  in  every  possible  way  to 
avoid  trouble  with  Calvin  Lismukes?  Oh,  you  don't 
know  how  desperate  he  is.  Human  life  doesn't  mean 
anything  to  him — not  a  thing;  and  he  is  one  of  the 
deadliest  shots  in  the  whole  country." 

"But  to  tell  me  how  deadly  a  shot  he  is  can  have 
no  weight  in  keeping  down  trouble  between  him  and 
me.  I  may  be  a  deadly  shot,  too." 

In  my  mind  there  was  no  memory  of  prowess  with 
the  pistol.  But  all  boys,  as  indeed  nearly  all  men, 
are  gamblers  with  Fate,  standing  ready  to  shake  dice 
with  her. 

"Oh,  yes,  of  course,"  she  said,  "but  being  a  goad 
shot  could  only  inflict  harm  upon  the  enemy.  It 
could  not  save  yourself. ' ' 

"Let  us  talk  about  Mahone,"  said  I. 

' '  Oh,  yes,  about  him  when  you  have  promised.  And 
you  do  promise,  don't  you,  because  you  like — love 
me." 

"I  am  a  fool  again  and  I  promise." 

"Thank  you  so  much,  and  I  know  you  will  keep 
your  word,  for  who  is  it  that  cannot  see  in  you  the 
soul  of  honor?  And  now  about  Mr.  Mahone!  He 
has  been  most  kind  and  attentive  to  me,  but  how  do 
I  know  he  loves  me  when  he  has  not  told  me  so  ?  But 
wait,  he  must  not  tell  me  so — now.  If  he  has  any  such 
intention  let  him  wait— a  little  while  longer." 


In  the  Interest  of  Another.  75 

"But  why  should  he  wait?" 

"Oh,  you  don't  understand." 

"No,  I  am  willing  to  swear  to  that  fact." 

"But  you  must  not  be  so  ready  to  swear.    I  must 

have  time  to  think,  you  know.     I  am  almost  certain 

that   I  shall — consider  him  favorably,  but  he  must 

wait    two    weeks.      Doesn't    that    seem    reasonable 

enough  ? ' ' 

"No,  it  seems  out  of  all  reason.     I  don't  see  why 

he  should  wait — unless  you  have  some  one  else  in 

view. ' ' 

"How  can  you  be  so  heartless  as  to  say  that?     Of 

course  I  have  no  one  in  view.    Now  go  and  tell  him. ' ' 


CHAPTER  X. 

CARRYING  THE  MESSAGE. 

FEELING-  that  I  had  not  been  wholly  worsted, 
I  hastened  out  to    find    Mahone.    My  heart 
was  not  light  and  yet  it  was  not  heavy.     Re 
garding  myself  as  a  hero,  having  yielded  to  sacri 
fice,  as  one  who  had   given   up    everything   for   his 
friend,  the  humiliation  of  my  own  personal  loss  was 
not   crushing.     That  yellow   blemish  on  her  cheek 
was  a  strong  feature  in  my  consolation. 

I  saw  Mahone  walking  up  and  down,  near  the  red 
haw  tree.  With  a  start  he  caught  sight  of  my  ap 
proach  and  came  hastening  to  meet  me.  As  he  drew 
near  I  smiled,  and  then  he  came  running,  with  his 
arms  held  out  as  if  he  would  gather  me  from  the 
earth,  but  I  held  up  my  hand  and  he  stumbled  into  a 
walk. 

"Don't  tell  me,"  he  said. 
"There  is  nothing  bad  to  tell." 
His  eyes  brightened.    "Then  tell  me." 
We  walked  back  to  the  red  haw  tree  and  sat  down 
upon  the  green  bank ;  and  when  I  had  told  him,  add 
ing  encouragements  of  my  own  as  I  proceeded,  he 
put  his  arm  about  me  and  pressed  me  to  him. 

"It  will  be  a  long  time  to  wait,  it  is  true,  Rich 
ard,"  he  said,  "but  when  I  have  waited — oh,  when 
I  have  waited!  I  believe  it  is  because  she  wishes  to 
study  her  own  heart.  It  can't  be  that  she  wishes  to 
investigate  my  prospects,  for  she  must  know  already 

76 


Carrying  the  Message.  77 

that  aside  from  my  energy,  I  have  none  at  all.  Some 
times  I  have  been  most  woefully  cast  down,  but  I 
have  always  believed  that  she  is  to  be  my  wife.  And 
now,  my  boy,  what  can  I  do  for  you  ? ' ' 

"You  can  be  my  friend,  that's  all." 

"I  shall  be  that,  until  death.  Ah,  here  comes  Lis- 
mukes. ' ' 

My  mortal  enemy,  for  only  as  such  could  I  regard 
him,  came  swinging  along  down  the  path.  In  his 
hand  he  carried  a  switch  and  was  lashing  at  his  legs. 
He  whistled,  and  a  dog  that  had  been  smelling  about 
for  a  rabbit,  came  out  of  the  briars  and  ran  up  to  him 
and  with  his  switch  he  lashed  the  trusting  creature 
and  roared  with  laughter ;  the  dog  howled. 

"He's  got  a  good  voice,"  said  the  brute  as  he  came 
up  to  where  we  were  sitting — the  two-legged  brute, 
for  compared  with  him  the  dog  was  a  Wilberforce  in 
gentleness  and  a  Chesterfield  in  manners.  "If  he 
hadn't  debased  himself  with  rabbits  he  might  make 
music  after  a  fox." 

He  halted  and  stood  in  front  of  us,  but  I  did  not 
bestow  upon  him  the  recognition  of  even  a  nod. 
"Staggs,  I  believe,"  he  said. 

"My  name  is  Staggs,"  I  answered. 

"Yes,  met  you  last  night."     He  laughed. 

"I  believe  so." 

"You  believe  so.    Trying  to  forget,  eh?" 

"A  man  that  would  not  try  to  forget  some  things 
and  some  people  has  but  a  poor  opinion  of  the  uses 
of  his  own  memory,"  I  answered,  and  rather  pleased, 
too,  I  was  for  what  seemed  to  me  a  sort  of  inspira 
tion.  Was  I  forgetting  my  promise  to  Arabella  ?  Her 
cousin  Calvin  whistled. 

"The  dog  will  not  trust  you   a   second   time,"    I 


78  "By  the  Eternal." 

could  not  refrain  from  saying.  Ignoring  me  he  spoke 
to  the  Professor.  "Mahone,  your  little  school  is  get 
ting  to  be  too  stupid  for  me.  And  I  don't  know  but 
I'll  find  the  law  just  a  trifle  dull.  I  am  thinking  of 
joining  the  army.  It  would  give  me  scope  for  my  ac 
complishments,  you  know.  I  am  better  trained  in 
shooting  than  in  argument." 

"You  are  well  trained  in  both,  Mr.  Lismukes,"  the 
Irishman  answered. 

"Yes,  but  argument  is  too  slow.  It  takes  too  long 
to  convince.  Well,  I'll  bid  you  good  morning. 
Staggs— "  and  he  looked  hard  at  me— "I'll  see  you 
again." 

He  strode  away,  and  when  he  was  beyond  the  reach 
of  a  low  tone,  the  Professor  said: 

"Trouble,  Richard;  I  can  see  it  coming." 

"And  I  am  not  going  to  humiliate  myself  in  order 
to  avoid  it,"  I  answered.  "I  promised  Arabella,  but 
I  also  promised  the  General  that  I  would  put  up  with 
no  indignity ;  and  my  promise  to  him  was  made  first. 
Why,  my  father  would  turn  over  in  his  grave — and 
my  Irish  mother,  too.  if  I  were  to  let  that  hound  yelp 
over  me." 

"Yes,  I  know,  but  I  wish  you  oould  put  it  off  two 
weeks."  He  said  this  in  a  tone  of  such  comical  dis 
tress  that  I  had  to  laugh.  He  shook  his  head  sadly. 

As  we  were  nearing  the  house  we  heard  Arabella 
singing.  Mahone  grasped  my  arm  and  whispered 
that  she  seemed  to  be  happy.  She  came  into  the  room, 
in  short  sleeves,  those  graceful  arms  still  showing; 
and  at  the  moment  of  her  appearance,  Mahone  gasped, 
as  he  always  did.  I  thought  it  a  part  of  my  heroism 
to  leave  them  alone,  and  I  would  have  quitted  the 
room  but  she  gave  me  a  look  that  commanded  me  to 


Carrying  the  Message.  79 

stay.  She  spoke  of  the  beauty  of  the  day,  slowly 
rocking  in  a  chair  out  of  which  she  had  shaken  the 
household  cat,  and  Mahone,  sitting  beside  me  on  the 
sofa,  whispered  in  my  ear:  " Poetry  from  the  Old 
Sod." 

Then  she  inquired:  "Did  you  see  my  cousin  dur 
ing  your  walk?" 

"Yes,  Madam,"  Mahone  spoke  up,  "we  had  a 
charming  talk  with  him  beneath  the  red  haw  tree. ' ' 

"Oh,  did  you — beneath  the  red  haw;  and  how  ap 
propriately  that  tree  is  named,  for  more  than  once  its 
roots  have  been  stained  with  blood.  It  was  there  that 
Anderson  shot  Pruitt,  and  there,  also,  that  Menifee 
fell,  shot  by  Colonel  Caruthers.  A  dueling  ground, 
and  so  close  to  a  seat  of  learning." 

"At  Heidelberg,  Madam,  and  I  might  say  at  old 
Trinity,  where  merry  Oliver  got  through  by  the  nar 
rowest  squeak,  they  fight  in  the  very  halls  of  learn 
ing." 

"Professor,  I  hope  you  don't  defend  dueling." 

"Ah,  Madam,  I  deplore  it  from — from  the  bottom 
stratum  of  my  soul.  It  is  unchristian." 

' '  How  glad  I  am  to  hear  you  say  that.  You  speak 
of  it  being  unchristian.  What  church  do  you  at 
tend?" 

"The— the  Methodist,  Madam." 

"Are  you  quite  sure?" 

"As  certain  as  that  I  am  sitting  here,  Madam. 
And  it  was  my  mother 's  hope  that  I  should  be  a  min 
ister." 

"How  interesting." 

"Yes,  Madam,  and  I  often  regret  that  her  wishes 
could  not  be  carried  out,  but  the  drouth  came  and  I 
was  forced  to  make  my  way  to  America. ' ' 


80  "By  the  Eternal." 

"It  is  not  too  late  yet, ' '  she  said  with  a  sharp  look 
at  me ;  and  this  big-hearted  liar,  believing  that  all  was 
fair  in  love,  told  her  that  he  spent  much  of  his  spare 
time  in  the  study  of  theology.  Again  I  made  a  mo 
tion  to  quit  the  room,  but  she  restrained  me  with  a 
look. 

It  was  now  about  noon  time,  and  I  was  not  sorry 
to  hear  the  Judge's  heavy  tread  upon  the  veranda. 
He  came  in,  soon  followed  by  Harvey.  The  young 
merchant  spoke  to  us  in  a  business-like  way,  took  a 
notebook  out  of  his  pocket,  made  a  few  figures  in  it, 
and  asked  Arabella  if  dinner  were  nearly  ready.  She 
said  that  she  would  see,  and  went  out,  and  the  Irish 
man  gave  Harvey  a  look  that  was  quite  enough  to 
over-topple  any  man  not  braced  and  strengthened  by 
business.  The  Judge  asked  Harvey  if  trade  were 
good,  and  with  a  swell  of  pride  the  young  man  an 
swered  that  it  was  so  rushing  as  to  necessitate  the 
early  adding  of  a  shed-room  to  his  already  extensive 
establishment.  Arabella,  who  had  just  re-entered, 
caught  this  last  remark,  and  clapping  her  hands,  her 
sleeves  falling  back  upon  her  shoulders,  she  cried  out : 
"Oh,  isn't  that  grand  news!" 

"Yes,"  said  the  merchant,  "and  the  next  week's 
number  of  the  newspaper  will  have  a  long  account  of 
it." 

"And  I  have  some  news,"  the  Judge  spoke  up. 
"You  doubtless  recall  the  lady  that  was  looking  for 
her  husband  who  floated  away  from  home  on  a  raft. ' ' 

"Yes,"  said  Harvey,  "what's  become  of  her?  The 
fact  is,  I  didn't  blame  her  husband  for  leaving." 

"Sir!"  cried  the  Judge,  "be  careful.  She  discov 
ered  that  her  husband  had  been  drowned  up  the  river. 


Carrying  the  Message.  81 

She  is  now  at  the  house  of  a  friend  in  this  town  and 
— sir — is  soon  to  become  my  wife." 

' '  Then,  sir,  I  beg  your  pardon, ' '  said  Harvey. 

"That  is  easy  enough,"  the  Judge  snorted,  "but 
I'll  have  you  to  know  that  men  have  been  called  out 
for  less  than  what  your  remark  implied,  sir." 

"Gentlemen,  gentlemen!"  cried  Arabella,  "remem 
ber  where  you  are. ' ' 

The  Judge  bowed  to  her.  The  business  man  nod 
ded.  The  Irishman,  student  of  theology  during  his 
spare  time,  stood  fuming,  ready  to  knock  some  one 
down  for  Arabella's  sake. 

"Yes,"  said  Harvey,  "men  have  been  called  and 
some  of  them  had  the  moral  courage  not  to  go.  I 
apologize  for  making  the  remark,  it  was  thoughtless, 
not  to  say  ungentlernanly,  and  I  humbly  beg  your  par 
don." 

"Spoken  like  a  man,"  shouted  Mahone. 

The  Judge  bowed.  ' '  I  accept  your  apology,  sir,  and 
am  free  to  express  my  gratitude  that  I  am  not  com 
pelled  tov  take  further  steps  in  the  matter. ' ' 

"Walk  out  to  dinner,"  said  Arabella. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

AN  UNDERSTANDING. 

AT  SCHOOL  on  the  following  Monday,  Lismukes 
granted  me  the  distinction  of  paying  no  atten 
tion  to  me,  and  thus  it  was  during  the  week. 
A  number  of  times  he  passed  me  on  the  play-ground, 
our  eyes  meeting  the  first  time,  but  we  walked  on 
without  recognition,  and  after  this  we  did  not  so  much 
as  look  at  each  other.  Atcherson,  my  desk  mate,  re 
marked  one  day:  "Oh,  Lismukes  is  likely  to  break 
out  when  you  least  expect  it.  He  knows  you  are  not 
afraid  of  him,  and  he's  saving  you  as  food  for  his 
temper  whenever  he  doesn't  happen  to  feel  well. 
That's  a  part  of  his  peculiar  disposition.  It's  the 
way  he  served  young  Bethpage;  and  when  the  time 
came  he  tried  to  force  a  challenge.  Bethpage  was  a 
Quaker  and  had  scruples  against  fighting.  When  Lis 
mukes  found  this  out  he  posted  him  as  a  coward  and 
the  real  cowards  nagged  the  poor  fellow  until  he  had 
to  quit  school.  But  you're  not  a  Quaker." 

"No  more  than  Mahone  is  a  Methodist,"  I  an 
swered.  I  had  told  him  of  the  Irishman's  apostasy. 
And  in  this  we  had  agreed  he  was  not  worse  than  the 
great  poet  Dryden  who  changed  back  and  forth  to 
suit  the  humor  of  that  day,  when  pensions  were  dearer 
than  the  heart's  true  sentiments.  It  was  just  after 
this  talk  with  Atcherson  that  the  Irishman,  at  play 
time,  said  to  me: 

"Only  a  few  more  days  now  to  wait,  Richard.  And 
82 


An  Understanding.  83 

in  her  precious  mind  I  think  she  has  decided  al 
ready.  ' ' 

"But,  Professor,  what  will  she  say  when  she  finds 
out  that  you're  not  a  Methodist?" 

He  answered  with  his  feet  on  the  "Old  Sod":  "Be- 
gorry,  how  is  she  ever  to  find  it  out?  I  can  play 
Methodist  as  fast  as  she  can  ply  questions." 

"But  you  can't  deceive  her  always." 

"Ah,  trust  true  love  for  deception,  sir.  And  be 
sides,  she  ought  to  think  more  of  me  to  know  that  I 
have  risked  my  soul  for  her.  The  truth  is,  friend 
Richard,  that  I  am  not  a  communicant  of  any  church. 
Begorry" — with  his  feet  again  thrust  back  upon  the 
"Old  Sod" — "for  her  I  could  become  not  only  a 
preacher — but  a  highwayman,  if  she  insisted.  How 
ever,  neither  of  the  two  will  be  necessary,  for  when 
we  are  married  she  will  find  me  an  ideal  landlord." 

"But  is  she  to  continue  keeping  boarders  after  her 
marriage  ? ' ' 

We  were  walking  in  the  green  valley.  He  placed 
his  hand  on  my  arm.  "Richard,  the  feeding  of  the 
hungry  is  a  pleasure,  and  sure  it  is  a  brute  that  would 
deprive  his  wife  of  a  harmless  enjoyment.  Didn't  I 
tell  you  about  her  as  she  sat  at  the  head  of  the  table, 
a  veritable  queen?  She  would  adorn  any  position, 
but  here  her  grace  is  supreme,  and  sure  it  is  a  hus 
band's  duty  not  to  restrict  his  wife's  graces.  In  this 
respect  I  am  not  at  all  jealous.  And  it's  only  a  week, 
now. ' ' 

"What  if  she  should  decline?  Have  you  thought 
of  that?" 

He  gripped  my  arm.  "I  have  thought  of  it  Rich 
ard,  you  may  well  know,  and  while  my  belief  in  the 
devil  is  not  strong,  yet  I  have  thought  that  it  might 


84  "By  the  Eternal'' 

please  him,  evil  one  that  he  is,  thus  to  punish  me  for 
saying  that  my  mother  wanted  me  to  be  a  preacher. 
Speaking  of  the  evil  one,  here  comes  Lismukes. 

We  were  not  far  from  the  school  building  when  we 
met  him,  and  a  number  of  the  boys  were  near.  He 
halted  and  said: 

"Staggs,  I  have  something  to  say  to  you." 

"Very  well,  sir,  I  am  here." 

"I  understand  that  you  have  been  talking  about 
me." 

"Did  you  understand  what  it  was  I  said?" 

"I  understand  enough." 

"Then  that  ought  to  satisfy  you." 

"It  does.  It  convinces  me  of  something  I  might 
have  known  the  moment  I  saw  you — that  you  reflect 
the  spirit  of  your  sponsor." 

"You  mean  General  Jackson?  I  should  like  to  re 
flect  his  spirit." 

Several  of  the  boys  came  up  and  stood  about. 

"Ah,  and  you  say  this  without  a  blush.  You  wish 
to  reflect  the  spirit  of  a  blackguard  and  a  wife 
stealer. ' ' 

"Wife  stealer,"  I  echoed,  for  a  moment  forgetting 
myself  to  muse  upon  the  strangeness  of  his  accusa 
tion. 

"Oh,  you  needn't  marvel  at  it — it  is  well  known 
here.  Jackson  was  boarding  at  the  house  of  a  Mrs. 
Donaldson,  and  her  daughter  Rachel,  Mrs.  Robards, 
came  from  Kentucky  to  visit  her — with  her  husband. 
Jackson  persuaded  her  not  to  return  with  him,  and 
after  a  time  he  took  her  down  to  Natchez  and  brought 
her  back  as  his  wife — said  she  had  been  divorced 
when  every  one  knew  that  it  was  a  lie — that  she  was 
not  his  wife — that  he  has  her  now,  anothei  man's 


An  Understanding.  85 

wife,  and  is  living  with  her,  "in  defiance  of  the  law. 
This  man  is  your  champion  here,  the  cause  of  your 
being  here,  you  pauper,  and  you  go  about,  you  liar, 
talking  about  me." 

I  slapped  his  face. 

There  was  a  general  outcry.  Some  of  the  boys  ran 
away.  The  Irishman  stood  beside  me.  Lismuke's  hat 
had  fallen.  He  stooped  to  recover  it,  and  as  he 
straightened  up  I  saw  an  evil  glint  in  his  eyes.  I 
had  done  what  it  was  his  aim  to  provoke.  He  smiled. 
He  was  cool.  The  perfect  understanding  had  come. 

' '  I  suppose  you  will  be  in  your  room  this  evening, ' ' 
he  said. 

And  with  a  forethought  which  I  imagined  did  me 
credit,  I  answered,  "Not  at  Mrs.  Crenshaw's — at  the 
inn." 

"Very  well.  Boys,  I  shall  hold  personally  respon 
sible  any  one  that  makes  neighborhood  news  of  this 
little  affair.  Good-day,  Mr.  Staggs." 

"Ah,  at  times  he  can  be  almost  a  gentleman,"  said 
the  Irishman. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

SNEAKED  OUT  OP  THE  HOUSE. 

AT  THE  supper  table  I  was  pleased  to  observe 
that  no  one  seemed  to  have  got  wind  of  the 
"little    difficulty."     Arabella    was    gracious, 
with  her  sleeves  shorter  than  ever,  the  merchant  was 
full  of  business  and  the  Judge  sentimental. 

"Mr.  Mahone,"  said  Arabella,  "you  seem  to  be 
very  thoughtful  this  evening." 

"Ah,  Madam,  if  I  appear  so,  it  is  because  I  am  re 
straining  myself  to  keep  from  being  too  hilarious," 
the  Irishman  answered. 

"Were  your  duties  in  school  pleasant  to-day?"  she 
inquired. 

"As  heart  could  wish,  Madam." 

"You  are  not  in  the  law  department,  but  you  must 
have  met  my  cousin  Calvin  somewhere  on  the 
grounds  ? ' ' 

I  began  to  wonder  if  she  had  heard  anything. 

"Had  a  very  pleasant  talk  with  him  in  the  after 
noon.  He  is  a  fine  talker,  Madam." 

"Yes,  but  I  wish  you  wouldn't  call  me  Madam 
every  time  you  speak." 

"I  thank  you  for  the  suggestion,"  he  said,  and  this 
unblushing  lover  of  prevarication  proceeded  to  add: 
"I  had  thought  of  it  myself,  and  as  we  were  coming 
on  home  I  said  to  Richard  that  I  didn't  much  like 
the  word  Madam  when  applied  to  you  and  that  I 
should  be  much  pleased  to  call  you  Miss." 

86 


Sneaked  Out  of  the  House.  87 

"Oh,  thank  you,  and  if  you  wish  you  may  call  me 
Miss." 

"It  would  tickle  me  to  the  soul,  Miss,  and  I  shall 
take  the  first  opportunity  of  doing  so." 

"What  tomfoolery  is  all  this,"  spoke  up  the  mer 
chant. 

Arabella  seemed  hurt,  and  in  the  Irishman's  neck 
I  saw  the  veins  begin  to  swell.  "Say  the  word, 
Madam — Miss,  I  beg  your  pardon — and  out  through 
the  window  he  goes,"  Mahone  exclaimed,  striking  the 
table  with  his  fist.  She  laughed,  and  the  quick  per 
ceiving  son  of  Erin  bowed  to  the  merchant  and  begged 
his  pardon.  "I  wouldn't  injure  you  for  the  world, 
sir,"  he  declared,  and  then  added:  "And  as  they  say 
in  old  Ireland,  may  your  soul  be  in  heaven  before  the 
devil  knows  you're  dead." 

After  supper  when  Mahone  had  gone  to  my  room 
with  me  I  said  to  him:  "You  are  not  to  act  as  my 
second  in  this  affair.  They  would  turn  you  out  of  the 
school,  and  besides,  Arabella  would  never  speak  to 
you  again." 

"That  is  all  very  true,  sir,  but  when  that  fellow 
kills  you,  you'll  find  Dan  Mahone  standing  beside 
you.  Didn't  you  make  a  great  sacrifice  for  me? 
Didn't  you  go  to  her  like  the  man  you  are  and  with 
draw  in  my  favor  without  any  hope  of  reward?  You 
did,  sir,  and  where 's  the  gentleman  that  could  have 
done  more?" 

"Dan,  my  sacrifice  amounted  to  nothing.  I  had 
only  discovered  that  she  didn't  love  me,  but  what  is 
more,  that  I  didn't  love  her." 

"No,  sir,"  he  persisted.  "You  are  simply  trying 
to  make  it  easy  for  me.  Then  let  me  make  it  a  little 
easier  on  my  side.  I  have  discovered  that  I  don't — 


.88  "By  the  Eternal" 

don't  love  her,  either;  and  as  for  the  school,  I  was 
thinking  about  quitting  to-morrow — on  my  soul, 
yes." 

"Glorious  liar,"  I  said  to  him.. 

' '  The  truth,  Richard,  if  I  ever  told  it, ' '  he  declared, 
but  his  voice  shook  and  his  eyes  were  cast  down. 
"And  besides  it  all,  sir,"  he  continued,  "wasn't  your 
mother  an  Irish  woman,  and  over  here  far  from  her 
native  home  didn't  she  sing  the  old  songs  to  you? 
And  what  sort  of  a  traitor  would  I  be  not  to  stand  by 
you  now  ? ' ' 

I  put  my  arms  about  him,  there  in  the  candle  light 
where  the  shadows  were  dancing.  We  heard  Ara 
bella  singing  and  I  felt  him  quaver  against  my 
breast. 

"No,  Dan,  it  cannot  be,"  I  said.  "It  would  be  an 
insult  to  Atcherson.  I  have  already  put  the  matter 
in  his  hands,  and  he  will  meet  me  at  the  inn. ' ' 

"Are  you  sure,  Richard?" 

"On  my  honor,  yes." 

"Then  of  course  I  am  out  of  it.  But  I  want  you 
to  know — " 

"I  do  know,  Dan,  and  with  my  last  breath  I  shall 
thank  you,  and  tell  you  how  true  I  know  your  heart 
is." 

"But  I'll  go  to  the  inn  with  you — out  to  the  meet 
ing  to  see  that  every  thing  is  square.  You  can't  ob 
ject  to  that,  and  neither  can  the  rest  of  them." 

"I  cannot  decline  that  service,  Dan.  And  it's  time 
now  we  were  going  to  the  inn." 

I  brought  out  my  horse  pistols  and  putting  them  on 
the  bed,  stood  looking  at  them,  stroked  them,  wonder 
ing  which  one  of  them  should  end  their  master's  life. 


Sneaked  Out  of  the  House.  89 

Mahone  shuddered.     "By  the  Lord,  are  they  to  be 
used?" 

"Yes,  I  have  no  dueling  pistols." 

"But  they  are  cannons!" 

"Yes,  but  they  give  me  some  shadow  of  hope,  for 
not  being  rifled  and  less  true  of  aim  than  regular  duel 
ing  pistols  they  lessen  the  difference  between  that  fel 
low's  skill  and  my  awkwardness." 

"If  you  could  only  shoot  wuh  as  much  directness 
as  you  talk !  What  you  say  is  true — and  he  '11  bat  his 
eyes  when  he  sees  these  blunderbusses.  See,  I  can  al 
most  get  my  thumb  in  the  bore.  Have  you  got  bul 
lets  to  fit  them  or  will  you  load  them  with  buck 
shot  ? ' ' 

"Bullets  to  fit  tight,"  I  answered.  "You'll  find 
them  in  my  saddle-bags  hanging  over  there  against 
the  wall.  Get  out  half  a  dozen,  please.  We'll  have 
to  sneak  these  pistols  out.  You  carry  one  under  your 
coat  and  I'll  manage  the  other." 

We  passed  down  the  stairs  and  sneaked  through 
the  hallway  without  attracting  attention.  Nothing 
would  have  been  thought  had  we  walked  out  boldly, 
but  the  secrecy  of  the  mission  built  out  of  every 
shadow  the  substance  of  detection.  Out  in  front  sat 
a  man  in  an  open-top  buggy.  Wondering  if  it  were 
Atcherson,  I  spoke,  and  Harvey,  the  merchant,  an 
swered  me. 

"What  do  you  suppose  he's  doing  there  with  that 
rig?"  Mahone  remarked  as  we  passed  on.  "Do  you 
think  he's  going  to  take  Arabella  out  riding?" 

"She  wouldn't  ride  with  him — she  has  a  contempt 
for  him,"  I  answered.  "He  must  have  come  to  take 
the  Judge  over  to  marry  the  up-river  woman — to 


90  "By  the  Eternal." 

make  stronger  his  apology  for  having  spoken  slight 
ingly  of  her." 

"Forget  your  grammar,  Richard,  and  strike  at  a 
better  explanation.  He  has  come  for  Arabella.  And 
if  this  belief  in  me  were  a  little  stronger,  I'd  walk 
back  and  cut  his  traces.  What  impudence  in  him, 
the  calico  measurer,  to  drive  with  her,  and  in  the 
night,  too." 

Shortly  afterward  a  buggy  passed  us,  but  in  the 
dark  we  could  not  determine  whether  it  contained  one 
or  two  persons.  Mahone,  however,  swore  that  it  was 
Arabella  with  Harvey.  "And  to  think  that  I  de 
clared  myself  a  Methodist  for  this,"  said  he.  "And 
I  warrant  you  they  are  going  now  to  hear  some  cane- 
brake  preacher  roar  over  his  creed.  If  I  had  a  horse 
I'd  follow  them.  Richard,  I  wonder  why  it  is  that  a 
widow,  no  matter  how  beautiful  and  pure  and  high- 
minded,  is  full  of  tricks." 

"She  must  have  learned  them  from  her  husband," 
I  answered. 

"Ah,  you  are  a  wise  young  dog  yourself." 

Ateherson  had  engaged  a  room  at  the  inn  and  was 
waiting  for  us.  The  importance  of  his  office  con 
ferred  upon  him  a  degree  of  exceeding  gaiety.  He 
seized  my  hand  and  congratulated  me.  He  assured 
us  that  he  had,  after  paying  an  extra  price,  rented  the 
best  room  in  the  hostelry,  the  bridal-chamber,  and 
with  many  a  flourish  he  conducted  us  to  it,  comment 
ing  upon  the  fact  that  the  table  had  carved  legs  and 
that  the  walls  were  actually  papered. 

"Sit  down,"  he  said,  "and  make  yourselves  at 
home.  I  suppose  Lismukes'  friend  will  be  here  pretty 
soon — Bill  Vance,  I  believe.  Of  course  you  know  him, 
Dick.  He  has  acted  before  and  will  know  exactly 


Sneaked  Out  of  the  House.  91 

what  to  do — was  Lismukes'  second  when  he  shot  a 
young  medical  student  over  in  North  Carolina.  There 
is  one  thing,  Dick,  you  won't  have  to  fear — being 
crippled.  Professor,  you'll  find  that  rocking  chair 
more  comfortable.  Gentlemen  don't  forget  to  notice 
our  furniture.  Won't  have  to  fear  being  crippled, 
Dick.  Lismukes  is  not  a  maimer — he  does  complete 
work. ' ' 

"You  are  very  complimentary  to  the  furniture  and 
woefully  discouraging  to  our  principal,"  Mahone  re 
plied,  seating  himself  in  the  rocking  chair. 

"Ah,  not  at  all,"  Atcherson  disclaimed.  "When 
all  parties  know  the  truth  there  is  no  use  in  attempt 
ing  to  disguise  it.  Why,  Lismukes  can't  miss  Dick. 
Out  of  the  force  of  habit  he  could  hit  him  with  his 
eyes  shut." 

' '  And, ' '  said  I,  ' '  with  no  force  of  habit,  I  may  pos 
sibly  kill  him  with  my  eyes  open." 

' '  Oh,  yes,  you  Ve  got  that  to  encourage  you ;  but  I 
suppose  you've  made  your  will." 

"No,  I  hadn't  thought  of  that." 

"Well  then,  you'd  better  attend  to  it  at  once.  Pro 
fessor,  would  you  mind  pulling  the  bell-cord  for  a 
lawyer?  Hello,  we  haven't  a  bell  cord;  but  gentle 
men,  you  must  remember  that  this  is  the  bridal  and 
not  the  dueling  chamber.  But  there  are  a  score  of 
lawyers  about  the  hotel.  Professor,  wrould  you  mind 
looking  for  one?" 

The  Professor  went  out.  My  second  continued. 
' '  Are  those  the  pistols  over  there  on  the  bed  ?  Whop 
pers, "  he  exclaimed,  taking  up  one  of  them.  "What 
is  the  legal  bore  for  a  pistol?  Strikes  me  that  this — 
this  hollow  log  is  a  little  beyond  precedent.  What 
would  you  call  this  thing?  Artillery?  Are  you 


92  "By  the  Eternal" 

going  to  load  with  stones  as  they  did  at  the  battle  of 
Cre'cy?" 

It  did  not  strike  me  that  he  was  heartless,  for  the 
age  was  an  age  of  false  gallantry,  of  hollow  laughter 
that  comes  of  desperation — an  age  of  morbid  honor, 
and  no  matter  in  how  great  a  degree  a  man  might 
stand  in  abhorrence  of  death,  on  account  of  his  re 
sponsibilities  here  upon  earth,  to  give  evidence  of  it 
was  a  weakness  which  all  gentlemen  deplored. 

"My  father  is  a  Presbyterian,  you  know,  and  for 
me  it  was  an  easy  jump  into  fatalism.  So,  if  your 
time  has  come  you  might  just  as  well  accept  it  good 
humoredly,"  said  Atcherson,  smiling. 

There  came  a  tap  at  the  door.  Atcherson  opened 
it,  and  with  a  bow  which  it  seemed  he  must  have 
practiced  as  he  came  along,  Bill  Vance  entered  the 
room.  He  shook  hands  with  me,  with  Atcherson  and 
sat  down.  He  spoke  of  the  weather,  of  the  scarcity  of 
corn,  complained  of  the  farmers,  and  then  taking 
from  his  pocket  a  paper  neatly  folded,  handed  it  to 
me.  I  glanced  at  it  and  passed  it  over  to  Atcherson. 
Vance  arose  and  with  another  practiced  bow  took  his 
leave.  Shortly  afterward,  Mahone  came  in  with  a 
lawyer,  but  before  giving  my  attention  to  the  will,  I 
drew  up  a  brief  answer  to  the  significant  communi 
cation  brought  by  Vance  and  gave  it  to  Atcherson, 
who  withdrew,  also  with  a  bow.  The  lawyer  wasted 
no  time  with  bowing.  He  was  there  on  business  and 
from  him  was  not  expected  the  luxury  of  over  polite 
ness.  My  will  consisted  of  no  long  list.  For  owner 
ship  of  a  few  cherished  books,  my  pistols  and  my 
horse,  I  named  my  friend  Mahone,  and  my  prospects 
in  a  dim  Virginia  estate  I  willed  to  General  Jackson. 
The  lawyer  said  that  five  dollars  would  be  enough  for 


Sneaked  Out  of  the  House.  93 

his  services,  and  as  Mahoue  and  I  between  us  could 
not  raise  more  than  three  dollars,  I  was  inclined  to 
think  so,  too.  But  the  lawyer,  being  young  and  ac 
commodating,  accepted  our  meager  silver  as  discharge 
in  full  of  the  obligation,  and  withdrew. 

"Richard,"  said  the  Irishman,  "I  feel  uneasy." 

"Quite  natural  under  the  circumstances,  and  still 
it  can  serve  no  purpose.  If  my  time  has  come,  why 
it  can't  be  helped." 

"I  mean  that  I'm  uneasy  about  that  infernal 
buggy.  I  believe  Arabella  was  with  that  counter- 
jumper." 

"But  what  of  it,  even  if  she  was?  He'll  have  to 
take  her  home  when  the  time  comes." 

"Yes,  I  know,  but  I  don't  want  her  to  be  riding 
around  with  him.  He  may  not  be  able  to  talk  silken 
but  he  owns  silk,  and  that  goes  a  devilish  long  ways 
with — a  widow.  You  may  talk  buckskin  to  a  girl, 
but  to  the  majority  of  women  that  have  been  mar 
ried  no  oftener  even  than  once,  why  it  must  be  bright 
goods  of  fine  texture.  Ah,  but  wrhat  am  I  growling 
about?  Didn't  she  give  you  her  word  for  me,  and 
won't  she  give  me  her  blessed  answer  less  than  one 
week  from  to-night?  And  Richard,  you  shall  be  my 
best  man." 

"I  may  not  be  here,"  I  answered. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  I  forgot." 

He  did  not  attempt  to  give  me  hope ;  he  sat,  silent, 
slowly  rocking  himself,  tapping  his  heels  on  the  floor. 

"Of  course  you  left  all  the  details  to  Atcherson," 
he  said  after  a  silence  that  seemed  to  come  from  afar, 
out  of  the  dark  night,  settling  in  the  room. 

"Yes,"  I  answered,  looking  toward  the  pistols, 
their  brass  mountings  gleaming  in  the  candle  light. 


94  "By  the  Eternal." 

"Ah,"  said  Mahone,  "and  he  goes  about  it  as 
cheerfully  as  if  it  were  a  Christmas  pie,  baked  by  his 
grandmother.  But  it's  just  as  well,  for  whatever 
you've  got  to  do,  do  it  with  a  vim.  Would  you  mind 
if  I'd  light  my  pipe?" 

"Not  at  all.    Why  do  you  ask?" 

"Well,  my  old  clay  is  pretty  fetching  and  I  didn't 
know  but  it  might  disturb  your  thoughts — on  this 
solemn  occasion.  Were  you  ever  at  a  wake?  Ah, 
there's  where  you  encounter  more  pipes  than  can 
walk  about  the  room.  The  guests  are  supposed  to 
smoke  the  new  pipes  furnished  by  the  host  or  the 
hostess  as  the  case  may  be,  but  they  don't — they  puff 
the  gags  they  bring  with  them,  desiring  to  feel  com 
fortable  and  at  home.  I  remember  Jerry  Ragan. 
There  was  a  man,  Richard.  Fight  a  duel!  He 
wouldn't  leave  breath  enough  in  a  man's  body  to  chal 
lenge  him.  Well,  when  he  died  they  brought  out 
every  old  pipe  in  the  neighborhood — and  you  could 
smell  that  wake  for  ten  miles  or  more.  It  was  the 
night  my  father  fought  with  Gorman,  a  pretty  good 
man,  too,  Gorman  was,  but  even  if  he  had  had  no 
whisky  he  couldn't  have  stood  up  with  Dan  Mahone, 
senior.  I  can't  remember  much  about  it,  but  my 
mother  often  told  me  it  was  a  beautiful  fight.  That 
must  be  Atcherson  at  the  door." 

Atcherson  came  in,  his  face  as  bright  as  the  brass 
on  my  pistols.  He  threw  his  hat  on  the  table  and 
said  that  everything  had  been  arranged  in  a  most 
satisfactory  manner.  The  time  for  the  meeting  was 
to  be  sunrise  on  the  following  day,  and  the  place,  the 
red  haw  tree.  "Many  is  the  time  I  have  smoked  my 
pipe  there,"  said  Mahone,  "but  I  am  afraid  that  I 
shall  have  to  avoid  that  nook  hereafter.  It  was  there 


Sneaked  Out  of  the  House.  95 

that  Richard  and  I  had  our  first  talk — when  I  told 
him  of  the  beautiful  widow." 

"  It  is  even  more  historic  than  that  in  my  affections, 
for  it  was  there  that  I  first  met  Mrs.  Crenshaw,"  At- 
cherson  replied.  "I  was  coming  along  just  before 
sunset  one  evening,  and  there  she  was.  She  had  play 
fully  thrown  her  bonnet  up  into  the  tree  and  couldn't 
get  it  down." 

"Don't,"  said  the  Irishman,  putting  up  his  hand, 
"don't — the  picture  is  too  strong  for  me." 

"And  for  a  long  time  it  was  too  strong  for  me, 
too,"  Atcherson  declared.  "Ah,  I  beg  your  pardon, 
I  believe  you  are  in  love  with  her  at  present,  Pro 
fessor.  ' ' 

"Yes,  sir,  and  shall  be  till  the  sun  goes  down  for 
the  last  time.  But  Richard  will  need  sleep  and  we 
are  keeping  him  from  it." 

"Yes,  that's  a  fact.  You  are  thoughtful,  Profes 
sor;  and  as  this  is  one  of  the  times  when  a  man  would 
naturally  prefer  to  be  alone,  we'd  better  leave  him  to 
himself.  Dick,  we'll  get  another  room,  and  don't  you 
be  afraid  to  sleep,  for  I  will  call  you  in  plenty  of 
time." 

' '  One  moment, ' '  said  the  Professor.  ' '  Did  you  see 
Lismukes  just  now?" 

"Yes,  he  was  in  the  room  while  Vance  and  I  were 
completing  the  arrangements." 

"How  did  he  seem?     Regretful?" 

"That  fellow?  I  never  saw  him  in  as  high  spirits. 
He  walked  up  and  down  the  room  and  whistled,  leav 
ing  off  occasionally  to  make  some  pleasant  remark. 
He  may  be  a  beast  but  he's  not  a  coward.  And  I  never 
saw  a  man  with  such  confidence  in  himself.  One  of 
the  boys  told  me  in  a  whisper  that  he  went  out  late 


96  "By  the  Eternal." 

in  the  afternoon  and  took  a  few  practice  shots  with  his 
pistols. ' ' 

"But  little  good  that  will  do  him,"  Mahone  replied. 
"And  I  warrant  you  his  jaw  will  drop  a  bit  when  he 
catches  sight  of  Richard's  fuzees.  He  may  practice 
tills  doomsday  with  rifled  barrels  and  that  won 't  give 
him  much  of  a  call  with  these  old  smooth  bores.  They 
are  as  whimsical  as  a  woman,  and  the  more  powder 
you  put  in,  the  more  they  act  according  to  their  own 
notion.  Richard,  my  boy,  we'll  see  you  in  the  morn 
ing.  Let  the  justice  of  your  cause  sustain  you." 

"Don't  try  to  sustain  yourself  with  anything  but 
fate,"  said  Atcherson.  "Just  consider  yourself  as 
having  never  been  born.  That's  the  proper  way  to 
get  at  it." 

"Our  young  friend  here,"  remarked  Mahone,  halt 
ing  at  the  door,  "has  just  attained  his  atheistic  ma 
jority,  which  means  that  he  has  not  cut  his  philosoph 
ical  teeth.  You'll  be  a  preacher  one  of  these  days, 
Atcherson." 

"I'm  already  a  preacher  of  truth,"  my  second 
answered.  Then  he  turned  to  me.  "Good  night,  old 
fellow.  Dream  as  pleasantly  as  you  can.  This  is  not 
a  formal  leave-taking,  understand.  We'll  see  you 
early  to-morrow  morning." 

Mahone  went  out  last,  looking  intently  upon  me 
and  then  carefully  closing  the  door.  And  now  for 
the  first  time  a  sensation  of  weakness  flew  over  me, 
and  I  seized  hold  of  the  table  to  steady  myself.  It 
was  not  fear,  it  was  a  weakening  wonder  if  my  time 
had  really  come,  a  flash  of  cold  speculation  as  to 
whether  I  was  prepared  to  meet  it.  Suddenly  I  heard 
footsteps  approaching  my  door,  heard  a  voice  which 
I  recognized,  and  opening  the  door  I  stood  face  to  face 


Sneaked  Out  of  the  House.  97 

with  General  Jackson.  Just  behind  him  stood  Ma- 
bone.  The  General  held  forth  his  hand  with  that 
dignified  cordiality  that  made  him  so  winning  both 
with  women  and  with  men. 

"I  was  surprised  to  learn  that  you  were  here, 
Richard,"  he  said,  entering  the  room.  "Why  did  you 
quit  Mrs.  Crenshaw's?" 

I  offered  him  a  chair,  but  he  remained  standing. 
"Why  are  you  here?"  he  asked  before  I  had  an 
swered  him. 

"I  am  here  only  temporarily,  sir." 

Just  then  he  caught  sight  of  the  pistols  on  the  bed. 
He  looked  at  me,  at  Mahone,  and  then  fixing  his  eye 
on  me,  he  said: 

"I  demand  to  know,  sir,  what  this  means?  Why 
have  you  quitted  your  abode  to  come  here  to  nurse 
pistols  at  this  time  of  night?" 

"The  pistols,  sir,"  said  I,  have  been  put  to  bed  to 
be  aroused  at  daylight.  Mr.  Mahone,  I  will  leave 
the  room  while  you  explain  to  the  General." 

I  hastened  out,  glad  to  escape  from  the  necessity 
of  explaining,  because  I  dreaded  to  repeat  in  his 
presence  the  words  of  Lismukes.  Not  far  off  I  stood 
waiting  in  the  hallway,  intending  to  give  Mahone 
time  enough,  and  thinking  that  I  had,  I  was  return 
ing  when  I  heard  the  General  exclaim,  ' '  By  the  Eter 
nal  ! ' '  Then  I  knew  that  the  climax  had  been  reached. 
!Just  outside  the  door  the  General  met  me — gripped 
me  tightly  by  the  arm,  drew  me  into  the  room. 
"Richard,"  he  said,  and  there  was  that  strange 
smile,  but  now  as  cold  as  frost,  "Richard,  this  affair 
is  mine — I  must  assume  it — I  demand  it  as  my 
right." 

"That  is  impossible,  General.     The  arrangements 


98  "By  the  Eternal." 

have  all  been  made.  No,  I  must  meet  him  to-morrow 
morning,  and  if  he  escapes — he  may  answer  to  you. 
He  has  insulted  me  time  after  time — met  me  first 
with  an  insult,  has  done  everything  he  could  to  bring 
about  a  meeting,  believing  that  my  blood  is  within 
his  easy  reach.  Mahone  said  at  first  that  there  was 
bound  to  be  trouble — Mrs.  Crenshaw  knew  it  was 
coming  and  made  me  promise  to  do  everything  I 
could  to  avoid  it,  but  I  could  not  put  up  with  his  in 
sults." 

He  took  my  hand  and  pressed  it  hard.  "Richard, 
for  years  I  have  kept  on  my  mantelpiece  two  pistols, 
cocked  for  just  such  scoundrels  as  this  fellow.  And 
he  shall  die,  if  not  by  your  hand,  by  mine.  Richard, 
and  you,  Professor  Mahone,  it  is  not  necessary  to  ex 
plain  to  you,  but  I  will.  In  the  case  of  Robarts  and 
his  wife,  the  legislature  of  the  State  of  Virginia 
granted  a  divorce.  On  this  subject  that  is  all  I  have 
to  say,  except  that  she  is  as  pure  as  a  heaven-sent 
angel;  and  when  any  man  breathes  suspicion  against 
her  fair  name,  be  he  Governor  or  President,  I  will 
send  his  soul  to  hell.  But  my  brave  boy,  enough  of 
this.  It  is  of  no  use  for  me  to  tell  you  to  keep  your 
courage  up.  You  will  not  falter.  And  when  the 
times  comes,  aim  at  his  breast,  rather  low  down.  Don't 
risk  his  head.  Those  are  old  army  pistols,  are  they 
not?  I  have  better  ones." 

"They  might  be  better  for  him  and  not  for  me,"  I 
answered. 

"That  is  true  enough,  sir.  You  are  thoughtful. 
Ah,  I  had  come  to  tell  you  of  Mrs.  Jackson's  return 
and  to  invite  you  out  to  visit  us,  but  in  this  life  we 
can  foresee  nothing." 

He  walked  off  from  me,  as  straight  between  the 


Sneaked  Out  of  the  House.  99 

shoulders  as  an  Indian  chief,  then  returned,  and  in 
his  eye  there  was  a  deadly  fire,  but  with  it  all  a  ten 
derness  for  me;  and  I  felt  my  heart  swelling  with 
gratitude  toward  him,  so  much  do  the  really  great 
demand  from  us. 

"Richard,  forgive  my  harshness  in  demanding 
from  you  the  surrender  of  your  right  to  avenge  a 
gross  insult.  But  you  understand  my  motive." 

"I  do,  General,  and  appreciate  it." 

"I  thank  you.  And  now  we  will  bid  you  good 
night.  I  shall  see  you  in  the  morning." 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

AN  OLD  ACQUAINTANCE  FROM   THE   NURSERY. 

IT  was  now  past  midnight.  I  went  to  the  window 
and  looked  out.  Nowhere  was  there  a  light.  I 
heard  the  heavy  tread  of  the  watchman,  slowly 
pacing  his  round.  The  candle  was  burning  low,  and 
I  lay  down,  without  undressing,  and  gazed  at  the 
nickering  light  as  it  rose  and  fell.  On  the  wall  the 
shadows  danced.  Suddenly  all  the  world  was  one 
great  impenetrable  shadow.  The  candle's  flame  had 
died.  I  strove  to  fix  my  mind  on  serious  subjects  but 
they  eluded  me.  I  thought  of  a  rabbit  that  I  had 
caught  in  a  trap,  many  years  ago;  of  an  early  play 
mate,  a  stammering  negro  boy.  My  lips  fashioned  a 
prayer,  but  in  my  mind  there  arose  a  foolish  tune  I 
had  heard  a  boatman  whistle.  Then  there  came 
nursery  rhymes  and  I  wondered  why  Jack  Sprat 
could  eat  no  fat.  If  he  were  hungry  he  might  have 
eaten  almost  anything.  I  offered  him  a  piece  of  meat 
on  a  toasting  fork,  but  he  shook  his  head,  declaring 
that  it  was. fat.  But  his  wife  took  it  and  thanked  me, 
too.  What  an  engaging  creature  she  was.  Of  course, 
I  had  met  her  a  number  of  times,  in  a  casual  way, 
but  somehow  this  was  my  first  opportunity  to  get  a 
good  look  at  her.  I  asked  her  why  she  had  married 
such  an  obstinate  clown,  and  she  said  that  it  was 
because  he  signed  a  contract  to  milk  the  cow.  I  in 
quired  as  to  whether  he  had  kept  his  agreement,  and 
she  answered  that  he  no  doubt  would  have  done  so, 

100 


An  Old  Acquaintance  From  the  Nursery.     101 

but  that  thus  far  he  had  failed  to  provide  the  cow. 
Then  she  turned  her  face  fuller  toward  me  and  I  saw 
a  blemish  on  her  cheek.  Why,  this  Mrs.  Sprat  was 
Arabella,  and  she  laughed  when  she  found  that  I  had 
discovered  her,  and  taking  down  a  pair  of  shears 
from  a  nail  on  the  wall  she  cut  off  her  sleeves,  threw 
her  bare  arms  about  my  neck  and  told  me  that  she 
loved  me,  had  loved  me  long  before  Crenshaw's  fore 
fathers,  the  kings,  had  sported  with  hawks  on  the 
downs  of  England.  She  kissed  me  and  I  asked  her 
why  her  lips  were  so  cool,  and  she  answered  that  it 
was  because  she  had  just  whistled  to  a  man  that  had 
ice  for  sale.  This  explanation  being  satisfactory  I 
permitted  her  to  kiss  me  again.  Then  she  sprang 
away  from  me  with  the  cry,  "Cousin  Calvin  Lis- 
inukes,  where  did  you  come  from?"  He  stood  at 
the  window  holding  the  curtain  aside,  looking  in  upon 
us.  She  led  him  into  the  room,  and  suddenly  he  was 
no  other  than  plain  Jack  Sprat.  But  he  said  that 
I  had  taken  his  wife  from  him  and  that  I  should  have 
to  pay  for  it,  and  when  I  protested  my  innocence  he 
swore  that  I  had  taken  her  down  to  Natchez  and 
brought  her  back  as  my  wife,  and  that  he  was  going 
to  shoot  me ;  and  with  that  he  snatched  a  blunderbuss 
down  from  the  wall  and  fired — and  I  jumped  off  of 
the  bed.  Some  one  was  knocking  at  the  door. 

It  was  Atcherson.  I  opened  the  door  and  a  flood  of 
light  poured  into  the  room.  He  had  brought  a  candle. 

"You're  already  dressed,  eh?  It's  well  enough  as 
we  haven't  any  time  to  lose.  The  General  and  Ma- 
hone  are  down  stairs,  waiting." 

He  gathered  up  the  pistols,  concealed  them  under 
his  coat,  and  I  followed  him  down  the  stairs.  The 
General  came  forward  and  took  my  hand  and  held  it 


102  "By  the  Eternal." 

for  a  few  moments.  ''Your  nerves  are  strong,  sir," 
he  said.  The  sleepy  clerk  followed  us  to  the  door 
and  inquired  if  we  were  going  out  for  a  hunt. 

"For  a  wolf  hunt,  sir,"  the  General  answered. 

The  streets  were  dark,  but  in  the  east  the  sables  of 
night  were  laced  with  gray. 

Mahone  had  gripped  me  by  the  arm,  as  was  his 
habit,  but  had  not  spoken.  After  a  time,  as  we  walked 
briskly  along,  he  said: 

"I  dreamed  that  Arabella  drove  over  me  in  a 
buggy,  Kichard.  On  more  accounts  than  one  of  them 
my  heart  is  heavy  this  morning.  Did  you  sleep  ? ' ' 

' '  Dozed.    But  I  feel  strong. ' ' 

"May  the  saints  make  you  stronger." 

I  spoke  to  the  General,  who  walked  just  in  front 
of  me:  "I  should  think,  sir,  that  it  would  be  best 
for  you  not  to  be  seen  at  the  place  of  meeting.  Re 
port  would  associate  you  with  the  arrangements  and 
the  conduct  of  the  affair,  and  that  would  injure  the 
academy. ' ' 

"Spoken  with  Supreme  Court  precision,"  laughed 
Atcherson. 

"And  with  quite  as  much  thought,  sir,"  the  Gen 
eral  replied.  "You  are  right,  Richard.  I  will  halt 
just  a  little  this  side.  But  remember  that  I  will  be 
near. ' ' 

"This  will  be  a  notable  day  in  the  recollection  of 
young  Hanie,"  remarked  Atcherson.  "He  is  to  be 
one  of  the  surgeons,  and  this  is  his  first  case. ' ' 

It  was  now  just  light  enough  to  observe  that  upon 
saying  this  he  looked  back  at  me. 

What  an  outcry  the  neighborhood  roosters  were 
making.  At  the  edge  of  the  pathway  I  trod  upon  a 


An  Old  Acquaintance  From  the  Nursery.     103 

stick,  and  it  snapped,  like  a  pistol  missing  fire.  From 
the  river  came  the  song  of  the  early  ferryman.  I 
could  hear  him  plying  his  oars.  It  was  now  Glen- 
dower's  time,  "As  is  the  difference  betwixt  day  and 
night,  the  hour  before  the  heavenly-harnessed  team 
begins  his  golden  progress  in  the  east." 

"I  will  halt  here  behind  this  clump  of  bushes," 
said  the  General.  He  knew  the  red  haw  tree,  knew 
where  it  was — knew  that  its  roots  had  been  dyed  with 
blood.  Facing  about  he  placed  one  arm  on  my  shoul 
der  and  with  the  other  one  took  mine.  "Richard," 
he  said,  "I  believe  in  God.  Put  your  trust  in  Him, 
and  your  aim  will  be  steadier.  In  England  it  was 
the  steadfastness  of  that  trust  that  enabled  the  people 
to  chop  off  a  king's  head.  Remember,  aim  low.  Ten 
bullets  fly  in  mid  air  where  one  strikes  the  ground." 

"I  shall  remember,  sir." 

He  pressed  my  hand,  and  we  left  him,  and  looking 
back  I  saw  him  standing  near  the  edge  of  the  thicket, 
a  majestic  statue,  carved  out  of  the  night  and  set 
there  in  the  graying  dawn. 

Our  party  was  first  to  arrive.  Atoherson  said  that 
it  was  because  Lismukes  always  liked  to  defer  a  pleas 
ure,  to  make  it  last  longer. 

"It's  time  now  to  leave  off  your  joking,"  Mahone 
replied. 

"Joking!    I'm  as  serious  as  a  mourner's  bench." 

We  sat  down  beneath  the  tree  and  I  asked  Mahone 
if  he  wouldn't  light  his  pipe. 

"No,  Richard,  I  have  smoked  here  for  the  last 
time." 

"There's  the  rim  of  the  sun,"  said  Atcherson — 
"and  yonder  come  the  others,  surgeons  and  all. 


104  "By  the  Eternal" 

Steady,  everybody.  You're  making  history,  and 
that  ought  to  be  a  painstaking  business." 

Lismukes  came  up,  dressed  jauntily.  He  shook 
hands  with  Atcherson,  and  offered  his  hand  to  Ma- 
hone,  who  declined  it  with  a  bow.  I  did  not  suppose 
that  he  would  grant  to  me  even  the  heed  of  a  nod,  that 
he  would  appear  loftily  unaware  of  my  presence  until 
he  drew  his  bead  on  me,  but  he  could  not  refrain  from 
an  insult.  "I  believe  I've  forgotten  your  name,"  he 
said.  "Stubbs,  is  that  it?  Oh,  yes,  Staggs.  Well, 
Mr.  Staggs,  I  am  at  your  service."  His  second 
stepped  forward  and  protested  with  him.  "All 
right,"  he  said,  "but  why  this  delay?"  But  he 
frowned  when  he  saw  my  pistols,  lying  on  a  shawl. 

In  position  there  was  no  particular  advantage  to 
be  sought.  The  ground  was  stepped  off,  ten  paces. 
The  pistols  were  carefully  loaded.  We  took  position. 
The  rising  sun  was  to  my  right,  his  left.  One  of  the 
weapons  was  given  to  me.  I  saw  that  Lismukes  had 
the  other,  looking  at  it — seeming  to  weigh  it.  The 
signal  was  to  be,  one,  two,  three — fire.  I  wondered 
why  I  w«ts  not  more  nervous.  Had  Atcherson 's  fatal 
ism  struck  in  upon  me,  and  had  I  perforce  accepted 
this  as  my  time  to  die  ? 

Before  leveling  my  pistols  to  take  aim,  during  that 
hour-minute,  it  seemed  that  Lismukes  was  sometimes 
close  to  me,  sometimes  afar  off,  on  the  very  edge  of 
the  horizon.  When  I  sighted  at  him,  along  the  bar 
rel  of  the  pistol  he  was  far  away,  but  coming  closer 
as  the  slow  counting  began.  "One"  seemed  to  fall 
down  out  of  the  sky;  "two"  came  up  out  of  the 
ground,  from  beneath  my  feet— "three"  was  weak, 
coming  from  a  great  distance.  And  "fire"  was  a  clap 


An  Old  Acquaintance  From  the  Nursery.     105 

of  thunder.  Then !  All  my  breath  burst  out  in  a 
gasp,  and  fainting  I  fell  to  the  ground.  That  was 
all  I  knew.  I  remember  the  gasp,  the  fall,  but  noth 
ing  more. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

HE   HAD    SOMETHING   TO   TELL. 

IT  seemed  that  for  hours  I  was  struggling  in  a 
continuous  attempt  to  open  my  eyes.  Sometimes 
there  came  a  low  hum  into  my  ears,  and  once  I 
thought  that  I  heard  the  General's  voice.  Then  there 
would  fall  deep  silence  and  deep  darkness.  And  then 
it  seemed  that  after  a  lapse  of  interminable  time  my 
eyes  were  suddenly  torn  open ;  and  through  my  mind 
a  bird,  a  hawk,  was  flapping  its  wings — flown  con 
sciousness  flying  home.  I  was  lying  on  a  bed,  in  a 
room  not  wholly  strange  to  me  as  I  looked  about — the 
bridal  chamber  of  the  Nashville  inn.  My  mind  was 
now  perfectly  clear.  General  Jackson  was  standing 
near  the  bed,  looking  down  upon  me — I  heard  the  rip 
of  some  sort  of  cloth,  and  then  into  my  nostrils  came 
a  scent  that  turned  me  deathly  sick.  But  from  this 
I  soon  rallied — drank  something  that  was  given  to  me 
in  a  large  spoon.  I  recognized  Hanie,  the  young 
surgeon,  and  observed  that  he  consulted  an  older 
man  who  stood  near. 

"Do  you  think  he  can  stand  the  journey?"  Gen 
eral  Jackson  inquired.  And  the  older  physician  an 
swered  : 

"Made  as  easy  as  possible,  I  hardly  think  it  will 
lessen  his  chances  of  recovery." 

"Richard,"  said  the  General,  "I  am  going  to  take 
you  home  with  me.  The  doctors  say  you  can  stand 
the  journey.  Out  at  my  house  you  will  receive  the 

106 


He  Had  Something  to  Tett.  107 

tenderest  and  most  loving  care — care  that  can  but  in 
sure  an  early  recovery." 

"Yes,  sir,  I  shall  be  glad  to  go.  Where  is  Ma- 
hone?" 

"He  comes  to  the  door  every  five  minutes  to  ask 
how  you  are — he  can 't  stand  it  in  here,  looking  at  you 
long  at  a  time,  though  we  have  assured  him  that  there 
is  no  immediate  danger,"  Dr.  Haiiie  answered.  "Here 
he  is  now." 

The  Irishman  entered  the  room.  He  looked  like  a 
ghost.  But  he  smiled  upon  seeing  that  I  recognized 
him.  "I  have  something  to  tell  you,  Richard,"  said 
he. 

"But  not  now,"  the  old  doctor  spoke  up. 

"I  should  like  to  hear  it,"  I  insisted,  but  the  phy 
sician  shook  his  head.  Then  I  asked  how  long  I  had 
been  lying  there  and  the  answer  was,  "Since  the  day 
before  yesterday." 

"Why  is  the  church  bell  tolling?"  I  inquired. 

"You  must  not  ask,"  said  Mahone. 

"That  is  as  bad  as  telling  him,"  said  the  old  doctor. 
"At  the  church  they  are  holding  services.  It  is  the 
funeral  of  Lismukes." 

I  saw  General  Jackson's  cool  smile.  "Did  you 
kill  him?"  I  asked. 

"You  killed  him,  Richard." 

"I  aimed  low,  as  you  instructed." 

"But  your  bullet  struck  him  almost  squarely  be 
tween  the  eyes.  He  fired  a  second  before  you  did,  it 
seemed.  They  tell  me  that  your  weapon  was  not  dis 
charged  until  after  you  were  struck." 

"Is  this  what  you  were  keeping  from  me,  Mahone?" 
I  asked. 


108  "By  the  Eternal." 

He  shook  his  head.  "Something  worse,"  he  an 
swered. 

''Tell  him,"  said  the  old  doctor.  "He  seems  to 
be  able  to  stand  anything." 

Mahone  sat  down  on  the  edge  of  the  bed,  took  my 
hand  and  proceeded  to  make  such  a  demonstration 
that  the  old  physician  cautioned  him. 

"The  world  has  come  to  an  end,"  said  Mahone. 
"The  widow  was  in  the  buggy  with  Harvey;  and  he 
took  her  out  into  the  country  to  the  house  of  a  Justice 
of  the  Peace  and  married  her.  I  went  to  her  house 
the  next  morning,  and  that  old  fossil,  Black,  that 
calls  himself  a  judge,  was  walking  up  and  down  in 
front  of  the  house,  just  as  if  nothing  had  happened, 
to  pinch  the  vitals  of  this  old  earth;  and  he  told  me. 
Then,  sir,  the  devil  rose  up  within  me,  and  I  asked 
him  if  she  were  in  the  house,  and  he  said  she  was. 
'Then,  sir,'  said  I,  'present  to  her  the  compliments 
of  Daniel  Mahone  and  assure  her  that  he  had  the  ex 
ceeding  satisfaction  of  seeing  her  cousin  Calvin's  soul 
fly  away  to  the  devil  about  sunrise  this  morning,  sir. ' 
And  now  they  may  go  to  the  funeral  on  their  wedding 
journey. ' ' 

"There,"  commanded  the  doctor,  "you  have  said 
enough." 

I  was  fully  alive  to  what  had  been  said,  and  I  sym 
pathized  with  Mahone,  with,  however,  a  feeling  of 
humor  stealing  through  me — into  the  right  side  of 
my  breast,  where  the  wound  was — pulling  at  me 
sharply,  there,  and  then  my  mind  dwelt  upon  the  man 
I  had  killed.  It  was  not,  however,  with  a  feeling  of 
regret.  Now,  in  this  latter  day,  when  in  exultation 
men  crush  one  another  in  the  financial  fight  and  send 
women  and  children  weeping  to  the  poorhouse,  it  may 


He  Had  Something  to  Tell.  109 

seem  that  I  was  wanting  in  Christian  training ;  brutal. 
But  to  my  conscience  I  turned  for  no  palliation  of 
the  deed.  I  had  been  provoked,  I  went  out  to  kill 
him  if  I  could,  had  killed  him,  and  there  were  no 
apologies  to  be  made. 

My  wound  was  serious,  you  may  well  believe,  but 
not  so  •  dangerous,  as  the  physicians,  especially  the 
younger  one,  at  first  made  it  appear.  The  bullet  had 
ranged  round,  had  missed  the  lung,  and  had  been 
extracted  near  the  shoulder  blade. 

The  weather  was  fine,  and  the  journey,  twelve 
miles,  up  the  river  to  the  Hermitage,  was  not  a  hard 
ship,  after  I  had  been  placed  on  a  boat  manned  by 
half  a  dozen  able-bodied  negroes.  The  young  sur 
geon  accompanied  the  expedition,  pleased  to  assume 
entire  charge  of  a  patient  who  necessarily  had  created 
a  sensation  in  the  neighborhood. 

"Am  I  to  go?  Mahone  inquired,  looking  with  sad 
appeal  at  the  General,  but  stepping  aboard. 

"Yes,  sir,"  Jackson  answered,  "and  you  are  to  re 
main  there  until  our  young  friend  is  thoroughly  re 
covered." 

"But  what  about  your  duties  at  the  academy,  Pro 
fessor?"  I  inquired. 

"Ah,"  he  answered,  "I  no  longer  have  any  duties 
there.  They  informed  me  this  morning  that  they 
could  manage  to  get  along  without  my  services.  They 
made  my — my  active  sympathy  with  the  duel  a  pre 
text  for  my  dismissal,  but  it  was  only  a  pretext,  for 
when  I  pinned  them  down  to  it  they  declared  that  I 
was  incompetent,  anyway.  I  told  the  man  that  said 
it  that  if  he  would  step  outside  I  would  give  him  an 
example  of  physical  competence  that  would  keep 
beef  on  his  eyes  for  the  better  part  of  a  week,  but  he 


110  "By  the  Eternal" 

declined  my  invitation,  although  I  assure  you  it  was 
given  in  the  best  possible  spirit." 

"You  need  not  worry  as  to  future  employment," 
said  the  General.  "On  my  estate  I  need  just  such 
a  man  as  you  are,  and  will  pay  you  more  than  you  re 
ceived  at  the  academy." 

"I  thank  you,  true  gentleman  that  you  are  and  a 
competent  General,  too,  if  it  ever  comes  to  the  test.  I 
will  attend  to  your  affairs  the  best  I  can,  but  you 
must  know,  sir,  that  grief  holds  me  down  to  the  earth. 
I  shall  not  live  long,  sir. ' ' 

"Let  me  feel  your  pulse,"  said  Dr.  Hanie. 

"Feel  of  them,  sir,  and  not  much  good  can  you  get 
out  of  them,"  Mahone  replied,  thrusting  forth  hia 
hand.  "Weak  as  a  bird's,  sir." 

"Strong  as  an  ox,"  said  the  doctor. 

"I  hear  you  say  so,  sir,  but  I  know  it  to  be  one 
of  the  many  mistakes  of  the  medical  profession. ' ' 

General  Jackson  smiled  and  remarked:  "Perhaps 
you  need  bleeding." 

"Ah,  General,  badinage  may  be  good  salve  at  times, 
but  not  for  the  heart  when  a  woman  is  its  concern, 
sir. ' ' 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  the  General.  "Those 
who  do  not  know  how  to  joke  should  never  attempt  it. 
I  beg  your  pardon.  The  rapid  improvement  in  our 
young  friend  here,  led  my  spirits  astray.  I  beg  your 
pardon." 

"Ah,  and  it  was  joking  that  you  were  with  me! 
I  beg  your  pardon  myself  for  misunderstanding  you. 
I  am  the  last  man  to  feel  hurt  at  a  joke.  It  is  joking, 
sir,  that  has  kept  old  Ireland's  heart  from  breaking; 
but  as  to  my  own  individual  heart,  it  is  beyond  the 
medicine  of  fun.  You  know  the  woman  well,  sir. 


He  Had  Something  to  Tell.  Ill 

the  Mrs.  Crenshaw  that  was,  and  you  know  what  a 
fine  wife  she  could  have  made  me  if  she  had  only  been 
a  mind  to.  Then  there  wouldn't  have  been  any  ques 
tion  at  the  school  as  to  my  education  and  fitness  for 
the  position.  But  it  is  too  late  now;  and  I  have  seen 
my  best  days,  all  of  my  days,  in  truth,  except  a  few 
remaining  dark  ones." 

The  General  appeared  to  be  greatly  moved.  He 
had  cause  to  worship  his  own  wife,  for  her  temper 
was  sweet,  her  nature  devout;  but  concerning  women 
at  large,  or  rather,  I  should  say,  in  society,  this  great 
man  had  no  judgment  whatever.  The  fact  that  she 
wore  skirts,  that  her  eyes  were  ready  to  weep — -the 
fact  in  fact  that  she  was  a  woman  established  her  in 
his  mind,  if  not  an  angel,  as  a  being  but  little  less  in 
grace.  In  his  presence  no  one  was  permitted  to  re 
peat  a  scandal  against  a  woman,  no  matter  how  frail 
she  might  have  proved  her  own  character. 

"I  do  not  think  that  Mrs.  Crenshaw  meant  to  de 
ceive  you,  sir,"  lie  said.  "There  must  have  been 
some  misunderstanding.  Perhaps  she  looked  upon  it 
all  as  the  mere  play  of  an  idle  hour." 

"She  did,  and  without  a  doubt,"  Mahone  was  quick 
to  reply.  "As  her  own  play  and  her  own  hour — all 
her  own  twice  over.  And  if  it  wouldn't  have  the 
awkward  appearance  of  suicide  I'd  jump  into  the 
river  now." 

"God  made  no  man,  marking  him  out  for  self-de 
struction,"  said  the  General.  "And  whenever  a  man 
does  that,  regardless  of  what  the  cause  may  be,  he  in 
sults  his  Maker." 

"But  suppose  a  man  is  brought  face  to  face  with 
the  fact  that  he  has  no  further  end  to  serve  here  upon 
earth,"  Mahone  suggested.  "What  must  he  do  then?" 


112  "By  the  Eternal" 

' '  He  must  wait,  sir.  His  sight  is  too  short  to  pene 
trate  the  future,  even  to  the  extent  of  one  day.  Let 
him  wait,  for,  by  the  Eternal,  the  morrow  may  bring 
an  obvious  duty  to  be  performed,  a  duty  that  shall 
revive  his  hope." 

"If  I  thought  that,"  said  the  Irishman,  "I'd  sit 
up  all  night,  waiting  for  to-morrow 's  sun  to  rise.  But 
ah,  sir,  the  broken  mind  may  be  mended,  like  a  spider 
mending  his  web,  but  there  is  no  mending  of  a  broken 
heart.  The  mind  has  many  lives,  like  a  cat,  but  the 
heart  has  only  one." 

"Sir,"  said  the  General,  "there  is  a  noble  woman 
waiting  for  every  noble  heart.  Bide  your  time." 

The  boat  reached  the  landing  at  the  Hermitage  in 
the  cool  of  the  evening.  A  negro  boy  had  been  sent, 
horseback,  to  apprise  Mrs.  Jackson  of  our  coming, 
and  she  was  down  at  the  bottom  of  the  garden  to  meet 
us.  She  came  forward,  embraced  the  General,  and 
then  with  gentle  touch  placed  her  hand  on  my  brow, 
walking  beside  the  mattress  as  they  bore  it  along  the 
path. 


CHAPTER    XV. 


FROM  my  window  I  could  look  out  upon  the  river, 
and  the  cool  banks  upon  the  opposite  shore.  It 
was  from  those  shades  that  the  birds  came  in 
the  late  afternooon  to  present  their  opera,  in  the 
garden,  like  Handel  driven  by  neglect  out  of  London 
to  give  the  Messiah  in  Dublin.  This  was  Mahone's 
fancy.  "I  have  read  about  it,  but  I  have  heard  my 
uncle  tell  of  some  of  its  phases  not  to  be  read  of," 
said  he  one  evening  as  he  sat  beside  my  bed.  ' '  It  was 
a  fact,  hardly  as  historic  as  some  facts  taken  account 
of  by  kings,  but  nevertheless  historic,  that  my  father, 
Daniel  Mahone,  senior,  was  in  Dublin  at  the  time. 
What  did  he  know  about  Handel?  Blessed  little,  I 
assure  you ;  but  he  heard  that  there  \vas  to  be  a  show, 
given  by  a  great  man,  and  that  was  enough  for  him. 
So  in  he  goes,  and  the  first  thing  that  attracted  his 
attention  was  an  understrapper  who  volunteered  the 
information  that  he  couldn't  smoke  his  pipe  in  there 
— one  of  those  country  wake  pipes,  I'm  telling  you. 
Now,  my  father  being  a  polite  man,  thanked  the  obli 
ging  understrapper,  but  went  right  on  pulling  at  the 
gag.  But  for  a  time  only.  A  big  six  footer  came  up 
and  knocked  the  pipe  out  of  my  father's  mouth,  and 
it  was  then  that  the  performance  began.  And  my 
uncle  who  was  present  and  therefore  somewhat  mixed 
up  in  it  assured  me  without  boasting  that  for  a  time 
it  was  the  liveliest  opera  ever  given  in  the  town.  It 

113 


114  "By  the  Eternal" 

was  a  great— Richard,"  he  suddenly  broke  off,  gazing 
through  the  window.  "Richard,  have  you  taken  note 
of  that  young  girl  here — that  beauty  ?  I  was  talking 
to  her,  out  in  the  yard  this  forenoon.  She  is  very 
distantly  related  to  Mrs.  Jackson  and  has  been 
adopted  as  her  niece.  And  sure,  St.  Patrick  would 
claim  her  for  a  niece  of  his  own.  Her  name  is  Nettie 
Blakemore>  and  she  asked  me  to-day — as  true  as  I 
am  sitting  here,  how  long  it  would  be  before  they 
would  let  her  come  in  and  sit  here  and  read  to  you. 
Have  you  taken  note  of  her  ? ' ' 

I  had,  but  I  did  not  know  but  that  she  was  one  of 
the  dreams  that  had  passed  through  my  mind.  Since 
my  coming  a  week  had  gone  by;  a  week,  not  of 
much  pain  but  of  weariness.  This,  though,  was  made 
bearable  by  the  kindness,  the  gentle  solicitude  of  the 
General  and  his  wife — of  every  one.  And  this  girl! 
Then  she  was  not  a  dream.  I  thought  that  she  had 
stood  near  my  bed,  smiling  upon  me,  that  she  had 
put  the  hair  back  out  of  my  eyes,  but  with  the  thrill 
of  her  touch  I  seemed  to  awake,  and  was  alone. 

"No,  she  is  not  a  dream,  and  yet  she  can  be  nothing 
else,"  said  the  Irishman.  "She  is  as  yet  little  more 
than  a  child — not  sixteen,  I  should  think — with  scarce 
ly  any  of  the  ways  of  a  woman  about  her — talks  just 
as  if  Adam  hadn't  been  turned  out  of  Eden.  Let  me 
lift  you  up  and  you  can  see  her  as  she  stands  now, 
beneath  the  plum  tree.  Now,  can  you  see  her  ? ' ' 

I  could  see  her,  my  dream — with  hair  blacker  than 
the  first  night  that  had  fallen  on  Adam  after  he  was 
turned  out  of  Eden.  She  wore  no  bonnet.  And  when 
suddenly  she  leaped  to  run  away,  I  saw  that  she  wore 
no  shoes. 

"She  jumps  and  runs  not  that  she  desires  to  leave 


At  the  Hermitage.  115 

one  place  to  go  to  another,  but  on  account  of  the  life 
that  is  within  her,"  said  Mahone.  "If  a  painter 
could  catch  her  his  fortune  would  be  made  in  any 
court  in  Europe.  And  to  think  that  when  you  are 
well  enough  she  is  to  read  to  you!  Begorry,  with 
such  a  reward  in  store,  they  might  shoot  me  to 
pieces. ' ' 

"Dan,  have  you  forgotten  the  widow?"  I  asked. 

' '  Sure,  sir,  and  didn  't  the  General  command  me  to  ? 
And  being  employed  by  him,  must  I  not  take  his 
orders?  But,  confidentially,  I  will  tell  you  that  I 
have  not  forgotten  her.  I  loved  her,  but  this  young 
girl — no  one  could  love  her  for  being  lost  in  awe,  sir. 
Aside  from  the  extreme  youth  of  her,  I  don't  see  how 
a  man  could  think  of  making  her  his  wife.  She  is  an 
elf,  out  of  the  woods,  and  they  must  have  caught  her 
where  the  vines  were  thickest.  But,  changing  the 
subject,  would  you  mind  telling  me  something?  But 
it  is  a  delicate  question." 

"I  will  answer  it  if  I  can." 

"And  you  won't  feel  offended  or  shocked ?" 

"I  think  not.     What  is  it?" 

' '  Well,  sir,  lying  here  alone  in  the  dark,  when  every 
one  else  is  asleep,  do  you  ever  imagine  that  you  see 
Lismukes  ? ' ' 

"I  have  dreamed  aoout  him  a  number  of  times." 

"And  does  it  frighten  you  to  dream  about  him?" 

"Not  at  all." 

"How  does  he  look  to  you?" 

"Always  insulting.  And  when  I  wake,  I  am  never 
sorry  that  I  killed  him." 

' '  And  in  the  dark,  too  ?  I  should  be  afraid  of  him. ' ' 

"I  wasn't  afraid  of  him  while  he  was  alive." 

"And  I  should  think  that  he  has  found  that  out 


116  "By  the  Eternal" 

himself  by  this  time.  Oh,  I  've  some  news.  I  was  out 
walking  on  the  road  this  morning  and  here  came  driv 
ing  along  Judge  Black  and  his  wife — and  in  that  same 
buggy,  too,  I  warrant  you,  that  took  Arabella  away 
from  me.  That  was  a  bad  night,  Kichard.  He  drew 
rein  and  I  had  the  hardihood  to  ask  him  how  the 
widow  was  getting  along  with  her  new  husband— and 
the  woman  laughed  right  out — she  whose  husband 
came  down  the  river  on  a  raft.  And  it  was  a  delight 
to  her  to  volunteer  the  information  that  Arabella 
was  perfectly  happy.  And  this  may  be  true,  but  I 
wanted  to  call  her  a  liar.  But  the  news  I  wanted 
to  tell  you  is  this:  She  does  not  take  the  death  of 
her  cousin  much  to  heart,  neither  does  she  blame  you. 
He  told  her  he  was  going  to  kill  you,  and  when  she 
asked  him  why,  he  answered — 'Oh,  just  for  the  fun 
of  seeing  him  fall!'  A  lot  of  fun  he  got  out  of  it." 

Mrs.  Jackson  entered  the  room,  followed  by  a 
negress  with  my  supper. 

' '  I  wouldn  't  have  him  talk  too  much,  Mr.  Mahone, ' ' 
said  the  prudent  woman;  and  my  friend  answered: 
"I  was  just  telling  him,  madam,  that  he  must  be 
very  careful.  I  have  been  a  student  of  medicine  my 
self." 

"And  gave  it  up  for  theology,"  I  suggested,  de 
termined  to  punish  him  for  his  lying  to  this  gentle, 
motherly  woman.  His  jaw  dropped.  "There,  don't 
remind  me  of  my  foolish  escapades,  Richard,"  he 
said.  "I  have  a  good  deal  to  answer  for,  but  don't 
compel  me  to  answer  until  the  times  comes.  Ah,  here 's 
the  General,  fresh  from  town  with  all  the  news." 

The  General  came  in,  bowed  to  his  wife  as  if  he 
were  in  the  presence  of  a  queen,  and  then  embraced 
her  with  most  loving  tenderness.  I  have  been  an  ob- 


At  the  Hermitage.  117 

server  in  my  time,  have  noted  relationships  among 
men  and  women  in  society  and  in  the  family  circle, 
but  in  my  judgment  there  was  never  such  unabated 
consideration,  such  congeniality,  such  constant  af 
fection  as  that  which  characterized  the  home  of  An 
drew  Jackson. 

"Mr.  Jackson,  our  patient  is  doing  finely,"  said 
my  hostess,  my  nurse,  indeed — my  mother. 

"Coming  out  like  a  vine,"  the  General  answered. 
He  drew  his  chair  up  near  the  bed,  asked  me  several 
questions  concerning  myself,  and  then  addressed  him 
self  to  Mahone,  to  discuss  affairs  on  the  estate.  Here 
business  had  many  features,  planting,  boat  building, 
the  breeding  of  fine  horses  and  a  mercantile  trade  of 
no  mean  dimensions.  It  was  here  that  the  famous 
race  horse  "Truxton"  was  bred.  Jackson's  passions 
were  varied,  his  love  for  the  turf  being  among  the 
uppermost. 

Mahone  had  been  assigned  to  duty  in  the  general 
plantation  store.  It  was  thought  that  his  "student 
habits"  at  the  academy  would  fit  him  for  the  almost 
solitary  confinement  of  book-keeping,  but  as  this  did 
not  require  all  his  time,  he  was  promoted  to  the  posi 
tion  of  salesman  and  general  manager,  to  rely  upon 
his  own  judgment  in  the  event  that  no  one  else  hap 
pened  to  be  near.  His  first  exercise  of  this  function 
of  judgment,  or  at  least  the  first  that  marked  his 
initiative  inclination,  was  patriotic  in  a  way.  Over 
the  mountains  from  Philadelphia  had  driven  a  book 
peddler,  a  young  fellow  named  Billings,  afterward 
known  to  nearly  every  school  boy  in  Middle  Ten 
nessee.  Billings  was  a  literary  pioneer,  drove  a  cov 
ered  wagon,  heavily  laden  with  fancies,  Walter  Scott, 
from  whom  the  South  was  to  receive  her  romantic 


118  "By  the  Eternal." 

tone,  and  the  earlier  poems  of  Tom  Moore.  Mahone 
felt  under  deep  obligations  to  his  employer;  through 
the  woods  at  night  he  had  walked,  wondering  as  to  the 
quickest  and  best  methods  of  discharging  by  a  show 
of  his  own  worth  his  debt  of  gratitude;  so  from  Bil 
lings  he  bought  a  hundred  volumes  of  Moore,  and 
stacked  them  upon  a  shelf,  just  above  speckled  calico 
and  just  beneath  brown  jeans.  The  General  did  not 
care  particularly  for  Tom  Moore,  a  melodist  rather 
than  an  exponent  of  action,  but  his  strictures  were 
not  severe.  He  simply  remarked  to  Mahone  that  if 
business  became  active  in  the  autumn  he  might  pos 
sibly  dispose  of  half  of  the  Moore  books,  provided 
that  counterfeit  money  were  accepted.  The  Irish 
man  grieved  for  a  day,  wondering  how  he  could  re 
deem  himself.  And  on  this  day,  not  long  before  the 
General  returned  from  town,  he  had,  in  his  own 
opinion,  more  than  succeeded. 

' '  General, ' '  said  he, ' '  I  have  worked  up  a  fine  trade 
to-day." 

' '  I  am  pleased  to  hear  it,  Professor. ' ' 

"I  have,  and  there's  no  mistake.  I  sold  one  bill  for 
two  hundred  and  ten  dollars." 

"You  surprise  me." 

"But  it  is  the  Lord's  truth,  or,  rather  I  should  say, 
the  Saint's  truth,  since  the  Lord  takes  no  cognizance 
of  such  matters.  Along  -in  the  afternoon  to-day, 
while  business  was  as  slack  as  a  rope  with  nothing 
tied  to  the  other  end  of  it,  I  sat  out  under  the  syca 
more  tree  for  a  few  whiffs  at  the  pipe,  when  along 
came  an  old  gentleman  that  might  have  been  the 
governor  of  Virginia.  He  got  out  of  his  gig,  ah- 
hahing  a  good  deal  and  asked  me  if  I  had  any  water 
handy.  I  told  him  that  as  all  of  the  negro  boys  were 


At  the  Hermitage.  119 

off  fishing  somewhere  I  had  compensated  a  white  boy 
that  had  ambitions  to  rise  in  the  world — compensated 
him  to  the  extent  of  giving  him  a  hickory  cigar  to 
fetch  me  a  pail  of  water,  which  was  still  fresh  and  at 
his  service.  I  went  with  him  into  the  store — I  tell 
you  all  this  to  show  you  that  I  am  gradually  master 
ing  the  necessary  details  of  trade." 

' '  Proceed, ' '  said  the  General,  ' '  I  am  listening,  sir. ' ' 

"I  thank  you.  Into  the  house  with  him,  and  after 
he  had  satisfied  his  thirst  he  looked  about  and  said 
that  we  had  a  fine  array  of  goods,  and  I  acknowledged 
to  him  that  \ve  had  that  same.  Then  he  began  to  ex 
amine  our  stock  and  before  he  could  make  his  escape 
I  succeeded  in  selling  him  a  bill  of  two  hundred  and 
ten  dollars'  worth,  whieh  he  carried  away  himself,  to 
satisfy  my  suspicious  nature  that  the  sale  was  genu 
ine.  He  resides  over  the  river  not  a  great  distance 
from  here,  and  he  said  he  would  settle  the  account  on 
the  presentation  of  the  bill.  He  is  no  other,  sir,  than 
Colonel  Lavite  Bradshaw." 

I  was  looking  at  the  General  as  Mahone  concluded. 
The  master  of  the  Hermitage  bowed  to  his  wife  and 
said:  "Mrs.  Jackson,  if  it  is  not  asking  too  much, 
will  you  please  leave  the  room  while  I  tell  this  Irish 
man  that  he  has  played  hell!" 

"Why,  Mr.  Jackson!" 

"Mrs.  Jackson,  I  humbly  beg  your  pardon." 

Mahone 's  eyes  were  popping  out.  "Is  it  possible 
that  I  have  made  a  mistake,  sir,"  he  gasped. 

' '  Only  to  the  extent  that  you  have  given  my  goods 
to  old  Bradshaw.  He  owes  me  three  hundred  already 
and  is  law  proof." 

"Will  you  think  of  that,  now!"  cried  the  Irishman. 
"Law  proof,  and  he  looked  like  the  law  itself!  If  he 


120  "By  the  Eternal." 

were  a  younger  man,  General,  I  would  compensate 
you." 

' 'If  he  were  a  younger  man?" 

"The  same,  sir.  I  would  go  over  and  take  it  out 
of  his  hide." 

It  was  not  often  that  the  General  laughed,  but  he 
laughed  now;  and  Mrs.  Jackson's  face  beamed  with 
pleasure  to  see  her  solemn  lord  diverted.  In  that 
merriment,  slight  though  it  was,  the  Irishman  read 
the  pardon  of  his  fault.  But  he  was  not  wholly  to 
escape. 

"Professor,"  said  the  General,  "I  value  your  serv 
ices  highly,  but  hereafter  when  your  judgment  tells 
you  to  do  one  thing,  do  the  other." 

"That  is  not  a  bad  suggestion,"  Mahone  agreed, 
heartily  accepting  it.  "My  father,  Daniel  Mahone, 
was  almost  a  failure  till  he  adopted  that  same  idea 
with  regard  to  himself." 

Mrs.  Jackson  withdrew  and  the  General  said  to  me : 
"I  have  some  news  for  you.  But  first  let  me  remind 
you  that  you  have  not  seen  Atcherson  since  the  morn 
ing  of  that  unfortunate  affair." 

"That  is  true,  and  several  times  I  have  thought  to 
inquire  about  him,  but  something  always  came  up  to 
eliminate  him  from  my  mind,"  I  answered. 

"His  grammar  again,"  the  Irishman  murmured. 

"Well,  I  now  have  news  for  you  concerning  him," 
said  the  General.  "I  met  him  in  town  to-day,  and  a 
more  changed  young  man,  both  in  appearance  and  in 
voice,  I  don't  think  I  ever  saw.  The  part  he  played 
in  the  duel  wrought  so  heavily  upon  him  that  for 
several  nights  afterward  he  couldn't  sleep.  Just 
about  this  time  he  met  a  Methodist  preacher  who  was 
conducting  a  revival  meeting  in  a  church  over  on  the 


At  the  Hermitage.  121 

hill;  and  what  did  Atcherson  do  but  go  over — and 
drop  upon  his  knees  at  the  mourners'  bench.  In  due 
time  he  professed  religion  and  now  he  is  studying  for 
the  ministry." 

"I  told  him  so  before  he  knew  it  himself,"  said 
Mahone.  "I  saw  it  coming,  sir.  I  can  always  see 
such  things  coming.  It  is  then,  sir,  that  I  don't  have 
to  depend  upon  reverse  judgment  for  correctness  of 
view.  And  I'll  warrant  you,  sir,  that  he'll  make  a 
very  troublesome  preacher.  I  don't  mean  quarrel 
some,  but  persistent,  always  pulling  and  hauling,  you 
understand — one  of  the  narrow  sort  that  can  never 
see  anything  good  outside  of  his  own  creed." 

' '  We  must  give  him  credit  for  sincerity, ' '  said  the 
man  whom  they  have  never  succeeded  in  sainting. 

"I  shall  do  that,  sir,  and  at  the  same  time  request 
him  to  let  me  walk  my  own  way.  Yes,  sir,  when  that 
fellow  was  so  glib,  I  thought  we  should  have  trouble 
with  him." 

After  a  time  when  the  General  had  given  me  a  few 
words  of  his  usual  encouragement,  he  withdrew  into 
his  sitting-room,  and  soon  I  heard  his  wife  reading 
the  Bible  to  him.  It  was  known  that  she  had  greatly 
"reformed"  him.  He  had  game  cocks  on  the  place 
but  he  discouraged  their  fighting — on  Sunday ;  and  it 
was  said  that  of  late  the  wagers  he  laid  at  horse  races 
had  much  diminished.  Within  him  she  had  awakened 
an  admiration,  if  not  a  love,  for  the  Bible,  but  it 
was  apparent  that  his  fondness  for  Moses  and  the 
warlike  leaders  was  more  pronounced  than  for  the 
quiet  and  poetic  musers.  In  truth,  he  did  not  care 
to  be  led  beside  the  still  waters,  but  to  stand  where 
roared  the  cataract. 

After  the  General  had  quitted  the  room  Mahone  re- 


122  "By  the  Eternal." 

marked:  "Richard,  I  have  made  the  discovery  that 
I  am  not  an  egotist;  and  this  naturally  leads  me  to 
the  acknowledgment  of  the  fa«t  that  I  am  not  a  suc 
cess  as  a  business  man.  Didn't  I  read  in  an  Irish 
newspaper  that  the  American  people  loved  Tom 
Moore?  I  did.  '  Don't  business  men  read  market 
reports  and  follow  them  in  their  buying  and  selling? 
They  do.  But  when  I  buy  goods,  why,  it  is  soon 
discovered  that  I  made  a  mistake.  What  is  a  man  to 
do  ?  If  yoia  can 't  reduce  trade  to  some  sort  of  system, 
what  is  to  become  of  commerce  ?  And  that  old  party 
in  the  gig!  How  did  I  know  he  was  proof  against 
the  law  when  he  bore  no  evidence  of  it  ?  Why  doesn  't 
the  law  compel  such  men  to  wear  signs,  setting  forth 
the  fact?  Richard,  I  think  I  am  better  fitted  for  law- 
making  than  for  business.  Ah,  see  the  failures  and 
the  humiliation  Arabella  put  upon  me!  What  is  it 
that  a  woman  can't  do  for  a  man?  She  could  have 
made  something  out  of  me — the  ideal  landlord  of  the 
community;  in  time  we  could  have  established  a  fine 
inn,  and  our  children  might  have  amounted  to  some 
thing,  but  as  it  is,  what  can  be  expected  of  them?  It 
it  not  a  matter  for  laughter,  friend  Richard,  although 
I  assure  you  it  does  me  good  to  see  you  laugh.  I  ex 
ercised  your  horse  this  morning  and  he  seemed  proud 
of  the  fact  that  you  are  getting  well.  And  that  little 
barefooted  elf  they  call  Nettie!  Ah,  but  you've  got 
something  in  store  for  you. ' ' 

On  the  following  day,  just  after  I  had  eaten  break 
fast,  the  elf  came  into  the  room.  She  was  not  more 
than  a  child — sixteen  Mahone  had  said — she  peeped 
in  at  me  with  those  great  Italian  eyes  and  inquired  if 
I  were  well  enough  to  see  her — then  slammed  the  door 
to,  opening  it  again  slowly,  peeping  at  me. 


F^^^^BBi 


"SHE    LOOKED    AT    ME." 


At  the  Hermitage.  123 

"Yes,  come  in,"  I  called. 

She  came,  shaking  the  dew  from  her  hair  as  she 
nodded  at  me,  and  I  asked  her  if  she  had  spent  the 
night  in  the  trees  with  the  birds,  and  laughing  as  she 
drew  a  chair  nearer  toward  the  bed,  she  answered 
that  she  had  slept  in  the  house,  but  that  she  had  gone 
out  early  to  see  them  haul  the  hay.  She  sat  down. 
"I  have  been  wanting  to  come  in  here,  oh,  ever  so 
long!"  she  said.  "But  Aunt  Kachel  was  afraid  I'd 
bother  you.  I  did  slip  in  once,  though.  Mr.  Mahone 
-—and  he's  so  funny — well,  he  said  you  was  a  regular 
grammar;  and  then  I  was  afraid  of  you,  but  I  asked 
Aunt  Rachel  and  she  said  you  wasn't  any  grammar 
at  all,  so  far  as  she  could  see.  Then  I  said  I'd  come 
some  time  and  read  to  you,  whenever  they'd  let  me. 
I  didn  't  bring  my  book  this  time — I  came  this  time  so 
we  could  get  acquainted,  and  when  we  do  it  won't 
make  any  difference  much  whether  I  bring  a  book  at 
all  or  not,  for  we  can  talk,  then.  I've  got  on  new 
shoes.  Uncle  Andrew  brought  them  from  town  yes 
terday,  because  there  wasn't  any  in  the  plantation 
store  good  enough  for  me,  he  said.  When  they  told 
Aunt  Rachel  about  you  fighting  the  man,  oh,  how  she 
did  cry.  And  Uncle  Andrew  said  as  loud  as  he  almost 
could — 'I've  always  got  two  pistols  cocked  for  such 
scoundrels.'  Why  did  you  want  to  fight  the  man?" 

' '  Because  he  insulted  me, ' '  I  answered.  She  looked 
at  me,  studying  my  face,  shrewdly  searching  for  my 
conscience  through  my  eyes,  it  seemed.  But  in  her 
gaze  there  was  naught  that  was  embarrassing  on  either 
her  part  or  mine.  I  felt  as  if  she  were  pouring  some 
thing  deliciously  warm  upon  me;  a  cordial  into  my 
mind. 


124  "By  the  Eternal." 

''How  did  he  insult  you?"  she  inquired,  and  her 
eyes  seemed  to  repeat  the  question  after  her  lips. 

"He  called  me  a  pauper,  a  liar  and  a  coward." 

"But  what  was  it  he  said  about  Aunt  Rachel?" 

"Oh,  nothing  at  all." 

Again  she  searched  for  my  conscience  through  my 
eyes.  Then  she  shook  her  head  and  sighed,  this  beau 
tiful  mid-way  woman;  ah,  how  women  have  shaken 
their  heads  with  tears  in  their  eyes,  and  how  they 
have  sighed  at  the  window  in  the  night,  peering  out 
into  the  dark,  waiting  for  men  to  come,  striving  to 
understand  why  love  when  it  was  so  free  to  come 
home  should  remain  away. 

' '  My  father  was  killed  like  that, ' '  she  said.  ' '  I  can 
just  remember  it ;  and  I  have  heard  them  talk,  and  I 
know  that  my  father  challenged  the  man,  because 
he  had  said  things  about  my  mother.  My  mother 
came  here,  when  she  was  a  girl,  from  away  off — from 
Italy ;  she  was  a  music  teacher.  My  father  and  Uncle 
Andrew  loved  each  other,  and  when  Uncle  Andrew 
does  love,  he  loves  harder  than  anybody,  but  he 
doesn't  say  much  about  it." 

I  let  her  wander  along,  desiring  that  she  should 
give  me  her  history  in  her  own  way.  "My  father 
and  Aunt  Rachel  were — were  almost  kin  to  each 
other." 

That  reminded  me  of  Mahone,  and  I  smiled.  "Yes, 
they  were,"  she  insisted,  "almost  kin.  Why  do  men 
say  things  about  women  that  have  to  make  them  be 
killed  or  kill  somebody?" 

Because  some  men  are  scoundrels, ' '  I  answered. 

"Yes,"  she  assented,  nodding  her  head,  "and  that 
is  the  sort  Uncle  Andrew  says  he  has  his  pistols  cocked 
for." 


At  the  Hermitage.  125 

As  I  looked  at  her,  studied  the  radiant  harmony  of 
her  features  and  the  blue-black  thicket  of  her  hair, 
I  wondered  why  she  had  not  been  more  spoiled,  in 
that  age,  when  to  flatter  gracefully  was  thought  to  be 
one  of  the  highest  qualities  of  the  gentleman.  The 
era  of  the  hair-trigger  was  also  the  era  of  compliment. 
But  this  creature,  to  whom  nature  had  willed  so  much 
of  beauty,  although  she  was  approaching  womanhood, 
seemed  unconscious  of  her  extravagant  inheritance. 

"My  name  is  Nettie  Blakemore  now,"  she  said, 
smiling  mischievously  at  me,  "but  it  will  be  Nettie 
something  else  when  I  am  eighteen.  Then  it  will  be 
Nettie  Page.  Ah,  hah.  Wilbur  Page  is  my  third 
cousin,  and  is  more  than  twenty-one  now,  and  I  am 
to  marry  him.  That  was  all  made  up  a  long  time  ago, 
and  I  promised  my  mother  before  she  died." 

"But  you  may  not  love  him  when  you  are  eight 
een,"  said  I. 

"Oh,  yes,  I  will,  for  I  have  promised." 

She  had  promised!  How  like  the  fate  of  woman! 
"Nobody  could  keep  from  loving  him,"  she  went  on. 
"And  he  is  going  to  be  a  doctor  and  cure  people. 
Doctors  don't  have  to  fight  duels  as  much  as  lawyers 
do.  They  don't  have  to  argue  so  much.  Lawyers  get 
mad  so  easily.  Uncle  Andrew  has  quarrels  with  them 
nearly  all  the  time.  I  wonder  why  they  keep  on  try 
ing  to  fight  him  when  they  know  he  can  whip  them. 
One  time  not  long  ago  we  were  driving  in  the  car 
riage,  me  and  Aunt  Rachel  and  Uncle  Andrew,  and 
we  met  a  lawyer  on  a  horse;  and  Uncle  Andrew  told 
the  driver  to  stop,  and  he  took  his  cane  and  beat  the 
lawyer,  and  then  we  drove  on.  After  quite  a  long 
time  Aunt  Rachel  she  says,  'Mr.  Jackson,  may  I  ask 
what  was  the  trouble  between  you  and  the  man  back 


126  "By  the  Eternal." 

yonder  ? '  And  Uncle  Andrew  he  smiled  dry  and  said : 
'It  was  no  trouble,  I  assure  you,  Mrs.  Jackson — it  was 
a  pleasure.'  ' 

Her  eyes  glowed  with  humor ;  her  lips  were  buds  of 
mirth,  ever  bursting  into  the  rose  of  full  blown  laugh 
ter.  It  was  as  Mahone  had  said:  She  was  not  to  be 
fallen  in  love  with ;  and  for  two  reasons,  one  because 
she  was  in  years  a  child,  the  other — I  don't  know 
what,  unless  it  was  that  the  constantly  startled  heart 
beat  too  fast,  beat  itself  out  of  all  the  gentler  paces 
of  love.  But  my  mind  was  on  that  young  doctor. 

' '  How  long  has  it  been  since  you  saw  him — the  man 
you  are  going  to  marry?"  I  asked. 

"Oh,  Cousin  Wilbur?  A  long,  long  time — nearly 
a  year,  I  should  think.  And  he  had  on  the  prettiest 
shirt  you  ever  saw — all  ruffled,  without  a  speck  of  dirt 
on  it.  He  wanted  me  to  kiss  him,  and  I  told  him  I 
would  as  his  cousin,  but  couldn't  as  his  sweetheart 
until  it  was  nearly  time  for  me  to  marry  him.  He 
said  he  didn  't  want  my  cousin  kisses ;  he  said  he  could 
get  them  most  any  time  and  most  anywhere,  as  he 
had  kin  folks  scattered  all  up  and  down  the  river.  I 
told  him  them  was  the  only  kind  I  had.  He's  got 
curly  hair  and  some  gold  on  one  of  his  teeth." 

"And  you  know  you  will  love  him  when  you  are 
seventeen  ? ' ' 

"Oh,  yes,  for  how  could  I  help  it  when  he  is  my 
cousin  now  and  to  be  my  sweetheart  for  a  month  or 
two,  and  then — to  be  everything.  Of  course,  I'll  love 
him.  Do  you  want  me  to  get  my  book  and  read  to 
you?" 

"I'd  rather  you  would  talk  to  me." 

"About  Cousin  Wilbur?  All  right.  I  know  you 
will  like  him.  I  was  at  his  house  one  day  and  he 


At  the  Hermitage.  127 

tried  to  ride  a  calf.  It  was  the  funniest  thing,  for  a 
little  while,  and  then  it  wasn  't,  for  the  calf  threw  him 
over  into  the  hog  lot  and  nearly  killed  him.  His  eyes 
are  blue.  What  color  are  your  eyes?  They  are 
brown,  ain't  they?  Yes,  they  are.  That  was  what 
Aunt  Rachel  said  when  I  asked  her;  and  then  Uncle 
Andrew  said  the  color  of  a  man's  eyes  didn't  make 
any  difference — it  was  what  he  saw  out  of  them  that 
counted.  Did  you  think  your  time  had  come  when 
you  stood  up  waiting  for  that  man  to  shoot  at  you? 
Of  course,  you  must,  for  you  and  everybody  else 
knew  he  was  a  good  shooter.  You  have  heard  about 
Uncle  Andrew  killing  Mr.  Charles  Dickinson,  a  long 
time  ago,  haven't  you?" 

Before  leaving  North  Carolina  I  had  heard  of  this 
famous  duel,  the  most  famous  ever  fought  in  the 
Western  country.  In  nearly  every  household  there 
was  a  copy  of  the  Nashville  Impartial  Review,  now 
growing  old,  in  which  was  set  forth  an  account  of  that 
sad  affair.  I  had  been  close  to  Jackson's  heart,  on  the 
morning  when  he  walked  with  me  toward  the  place 
where  I  was  to  take  life  and  to  shed  my  own  blood, 
and  I  knew  that  he  held  me  strong  in  his  affections, 
but  to  me  he  had  never  mentioned  the  Dickinson  duel. 
Accounts  of  it  had  been  printed  everywhere  through 
out  the  country  and  in  England  as  well,  and  every  de 
tail  of  it  was  familiar  to  me,  but  what  would  I  not 
have  given  for  the  story,  told  by  the  General  him 
self?  The  newspapers  had  begged  him  for  his 
"statement,"  meaning  his  recital,  and  the  preachers, 
some  of  them  his  warm  personal  friends,  had  begged 
him  to  express  his  regret,  for  the  influence  that  it 
might  have  among  young  men,  but  he  had  remained 
silent  and  grim.  But  it  was  my  hope  that  he  might 


128  "By  the  Eternal" 

unbutton  his  almost  echoless  breast  to  me — kin,  al 
most  one,  in  this  instance,  because  it  was  Mrs.  Jack 
son's  name  that  had  caused  both  the  death  of  Dickin 
son  and  of  Lismukes.  The  public,  let  me  explain,  did 
not  know  why,  in  my  case,  the  "field  of  honor"  had 
been  measured.  All  parties  were  close  of  mouth  and 
the  details  had  been  withheld  from  the  newspapers — 
it  was  a  student  quarrel.  I  may  say  here  that  the 
courts  took  a  side-glance  notice  of  it,  that  construct 
ively  I  was  a  prisoner  to  await  trial,  but  that  the 
trial  was  never  called,  mainly  because  every  one  be 
lieved  that  the  death  of  Lismukes  was  good  for  the 
community. 

"What  are  you  thinking  about  so  long?"  the  girl 
inquired. 

"Of  the  time  when  you  are  to  be  eighteen." 
This  pleased  her  and  she  laughed;  and  I  wished 
that  I  might  be  permitted  to  kiss  her,  even  as  a  cousin, 
or  even  as  a  grandfather. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

MAHONE  SEES  MORE  TROUBLE  COMING. 

IT  was  a  day  of  encouragement  when  the  physician 
permitted  me  to  get  out  of  bed  and  to  put  on 
my  clothes.  In  a  rocking-chair  I  sat,  near  the 
window,  looking  out  upon  the  river.  In  this  home 
was  a  bright  and  rosy  boy,  relative  of  Mrs.  Jackson, 
taken  when  an  infant,  given  the  name  of  Andrew, 
and  adopted  by  the  General  as  his  own  son  and  heir. 
Of  his  own,  the  General  had  no  child,  but  as  Mahone 
remarked,  he  could  not  have  loved  his  own  twins  more 
than  he  loved  this  mischievous  youngster.  He  used 
to  race  through  the  house  on  a  crutch  horse.  Surely 
there  never  was  a  household  where  crutches  were 
more  abundant.  They  appeared  to  be  standing  be 
hind  every  door,  in  every  corner.  And  it  seemed  that 
there  were  not  many  months  at  a  time  when  the 
General  did  not  require  a  set  of  them.  So,  in  his  line, 
young  Andrew  had  the  finest  stable  in  the  country. 
There  was  one  crutch  at  least  six  feet  high.  This 
with  its  mate,  now  lost,  had  been  sent  to  the  General 
by  an  admirer  who  had  never  seen  him  but  who  imag 
ined  him  a  giant  eight  feet  tall.  This  crutch-horse 
the  boy  named  Truxton,  after  the  General's  famous 
race  horse.  His  race  course  lay  through  my  room, 
out  upon  the  veranda.  On  the  morning  of  my  getting 
out  of  bed  he  won  a  great  race  and  had  come  in  to  tell 
me  about  it.  He  said  that  they  had  tried  to  drug  his 

129 


130  "By  the  Eternal." 

horse  and  that  if  he  found  the  fellow  he  was  going 
to  shoot  him.  This  was  an  echo  from  the  real  stable. 
While  he  was  talking  to  me  I  heard  Nettie  Blakemore 
utter  a  cry,  and  then  I  saw  her  run  swiftly  down  the 
veranda,  and  into  the  yard.  Andrew,  scenting  adven 
ture,  seized  his  corn-cob  pistol,  mounted  his  horse  and 
dashed  after  her.  .  I  would  have  followed,  but  was 
too  weak.  I  leaned  out  of  the  window,  straining  to 
discover  the  cause  of  the  girl's  excitement.  It  was 
not  long  a  mystery.  A  young  man  had  dismounted 
at  the  gate ;  and  now  she  was  coming  toward  the  house 
with  him,  clinging  to  his  arm.  Not  even  instinct 
was  needed  to  tell  me  that  the  young  doctor  had  ar 
rived.  And  now  my  first  feeling  toward  him  was 
generous,  I  thought.  I  was  resolved  not  to  hate  him. 
The  General  was  in  town,  Mrs.  Jackson  busy  some 
where  with  her  numerous  duties,  and  so,  the  exuber 
ant  miss  conducted  him  into  my  room,  and  in  a  warm 
glow  of  pride  introduced  him  to  me.  I  stood  up  to 
shake  hands  with  him;  and,  as  he  had  heard  some 
thing  of  my  case,  he  began  at  once  to  talk  about  gun 
shot  wounds,  telling  me  that  formerly  on  the  field  of 
battle  they  had  poured  hot  oil  into  them — "the 
wretched  barbarians,"  he  added.  The  girl  smiled 
and  shook  that  cluster  of  clouds,  her  hair. 

I  was  resolved  not  to  hate  him,  but  Christian  duty 
did  not  demand  that  I  should  actually  love  him.  His 
face  was  too  pale,  his  forehead  too  white.  He  as 
sumed  a  carelessness  of  learning,  mispronounced  a 
word,  accenting  it  to  show  that  he  knew  how  it  ought 
to  be  pronounced.  He  wore  with  his  other  finery  a 
"westcut,"  flowered  with  green  vines  and  yellowish 
blossoms.  They  might  have  been  herbs  from  which 
he  intended  to  extract  his  medicines. 


Malione  Sees  More  Trouble  Coming.         131 

lie  asked  me  what  sort  of  medicine  I  was  taking, 
and  I  nodded  toward  a  phial  on  the  mantelpiece.  He 
arose,  took  down  the  phial,  uncorked  it,  held  it  to  his 
nose,  shook  his  head,  recorked  it  and  sat  down.  It 
was  evident  that  my  physician  was  giving  me  the 
wrong  stuff.  He  asked  Nettie  if  she  were  glad  to  see 
him  and  she  said  yes,  and  told  him  that  she  knew 
where  there  was  a  bird's  nest,  but  that  she  wouldn't 
tell  Andrew.  The  boy,  listening,  jumped  upon  his 
horse  and  galloped  forth  to  find  it. 

"How  are  you  getting  along  at  school?"  the  young 
doctor  inquired. 

"I  get  along  better  when  I'm  not  there,"  she  an 
swered.  "I  don't  like  school.  It  makes  me  sleepy." 

He  frowned.  "You  mnsn't  feel  that  way.  I  ex 
pect  you  to  study,  so  that  you  may  grow  into  a  smart 
woman." 

"But  I  don't  want  to  be  smart,  if  it  makes  me 
sleepy,"  she  replied.  "What's  the  use  of  smartness, 
anyway?  Smart  people  don't  have  any  fun.  They 
have  to  argue  and  then  quarrel  and  then  fight.  They 
say  Mr.  Staggs  is  a  grammar,  but  he  had  to  kill  a 
man  and  be  shot  himself.  Oh,  I  know  that  ladies 
don't  have  to  fight,  but  men  have  to  fight  about 
smart  women.  I  don't  like  fighting,  except  roosters. 
Last  Sunday  morning  me  and  Uncle  Andrew  were  out 
by  the  barn,  and  a  dominicker  rooster  kept  on  jump 
ing  up  on  the  fence  and  crowing  just  because  there 
was  a  red  rooster  walking  about  over  in  the  lot.  Uncle 
Andrew  looked  at  the  dominicker  and  said:  'Old 
fellow,  with  your  crowing  you  have  drawn  attention 
to  the  fact  that  you  are  a  strange  bird  and  don't 
belong  here.'  Then  he  opened  the  gate  and  shood 
him  through  to  where  the  red  rooster  was,  and  they 


132  "By  the  Eternal" 

were  making  the  feathers  fly,  when  along  came  Mr. 
Peter  Cartwright,  the  preacher.  Wasn't  he  fretted 
to  see  Uncle  Andrew  standing  there  watching  the 
roosters  fight,  and  on  Sunday,  too!  My,  but  he  was 
mad,  and  he  began  to  scold. 

"Uncle  Andrew  likes  Mr.  Cartwright,  because  he 
knocks  sinners  down  when  they  disturb  the  meeting, 
so  he  didn't  get  mad.  He  just  said,  'Brother  Cart 
wright,  the  red  rooster  will  whip  him  in  less  than  ten 
minutes. ' 

"Mr.  Cartwright  took  off  his  hat  as  he  sat  there  on 
his  horse  and  blowed  his  breath  like  he  was  tired,  and 
said,  'I  need  about  ten  logs  to  finish  that  new  church 
up  the  river.  I  never  bet,  of  course,  but  I'll  lay  five 
barrels  of  corn  that  have  just  been  given  to  me  against 
the  ten  logs  I  need  for  the  church,  that  the  dominicker 
whips  him. ' 

"  'Taken/  said  Uncle  Andrew. 

"Then  Mr.  Cartwright  said  to  me,  'Sissy,  you  run 
on  into  the  house,'  and  I  told  him  I  would  as  soon  as 
I  saw  who  won,  and  he  frowned  at  me  and  said  I 
mustn't  talk  about  winning,  and  then  sat  gazing  at 
the  chickens.  After  a  while  the  dominicker  got  the 
red  down  and  pecked  him  and  pecked  him  until  he 
was  dead. 

"Then  Mr.  Cartwright  said:  'Well,  Brother  Jack 
son,  I've  got  to  go  on  over  to  meet  my  appointment. 
I  wish  you  'd  have  your  darkies  cut  those  logs  as  early 
in  the  week  as  possible,  as  we  are  anxious  to  get  the 
new  church  done.' 

"Uncle  Andrew  said  he  would;  and  when  he  waa 
gone  Uncle  Andrew  said  to  me:  'Old  Peter  is  a 
smart  man.  He  knows  how  to  get  logs.'  " 

"But  my  dear  child,  I  don't  care  to  hear  all  this," 


Mahone  Sees  More  Trouble  Coming.         133 

said  young  Page.  "I  would  much  rather  you'd  tell 
me  something  from  your  school  books." 

"But,"  she  answered,  "you  can  take  up  my  books 
yourself  and  find  out  all  there's  in  them,  but  you 
never  would  have  known  about  this  if  I  hadn't  told 
you.  You  wanted  to  hear  about  it,  didn't  you,  Mr. 
Staggs?" 

' '  I  was  delighted  with  it, "  I  answered ;  and  at  that 
moment  there  was  a  look  in  the  doctor's  eye  that  told 
me  he  could  never  be  my  friend.  I  wondered  how  long 
he  might  remain  a  guest  at  this  house,  where  I  was 
compelled  to  stay ;  and  I  remember  having  had  a  feel 
ing  that  the  air,  with  him  nowhere  in  sight,  would  be 
easier  to  breathe.  Among  other  things  that  I  did  not 
like  about  him  was  his  smile.  It  looked  like  an 
apology,  never  willing  to  come  out  with  complete  ac 
knowledgment  of  good  humor.  He  had  a  sort  of  rice- 
pudding  countenance,  with  no  firmness  of  crust;  and 
I  know  that  he  had  been  a  "mammy  boy"  and  flat 
tered,  for  occasionally  he  would  lean  back  and  look 
to  catch  his  reflection  in  a  mirror  that  was  hanging 
on  the  wall. 

"I  suppose,  sir,  that  you  have  settled  upon  a  pro 
fession,"  he  said,  giving  me  a  weak  smile — a  thin 
crack  in  the  rice  pudding.  I  answered  that  I  had 
decided  upon  the  law. 

"Law,"  he  repeated.  "But  don't  you  think  that  it 
is  already  overcrowded?  It  is  so  easy  to  pass  an  ex-, 
amination  for  that  profession,  you  know.  A  few 
commentaries  read,  a  few  rules  committed  to  memory 
and  there  you  are.  Nettie,  bring  me  a  drink  of  water, 
please.  A  profession  questioned  by  geographical 
lines,  for  a  man  may  be  a  good  lawyer  in  one  part  of 


134  "By  the  Eternal." 

the  world  and  not  a  lawyer  at  all  in  another  part, 
while  medicine  is  as  universal  as  man  himself." 

"But,"  said  I,  "it  is  narrowed  down  to  man's  body 
and  wholly  misses  his  mind,  except  to  deceive  him  as 
to  the  nature  of  his  disease.  When  you  have  dis 
sected  a  man  you  don't  know  anything  about  him 
except  to  the  extent  that  he  is  a  machine." 

Nettie  brought  him  a  dipper  of  water.  He  drank, 
thanked  her  with  a  hair-line  crack  in  his  countenance, 
and  turned  a  more  decided  face  toward  me..  He 
frowned.  "The  law  couldn't  keep  you  out  of  this 
sort  of  trouble,  but  surgery  steps  forward  to  save 
you. ' ' 

Nettie  stood  by,  shaking  the  dipper  at  us.  "Smart 
men  getting  into  a  quarrel,"  she  said. 

"Not  at  all,"  Page  answered.  "We  are  just  argu 
ing  a  point." 

"Yes,"  she  replied,  "and  that  is  what  they  do  with 
Uncle  Andrew  at  first.  Come  on  with  me,  Cousin 
Wilbur,  and  I  will  show  you  the  bird's  nest." 

"But  we  should  be  leaving  our  friend  alone,"  he 
said. 

"Oh,  don't  mind  me,"  I  spoke  up  quickly.  "I 
shall  not  be  alone,  for  here  comes  my  friend,  Profes 
sor  Mahone." 

He  arose  to  go  just  as  Mahone  entered  the  room.  I 
introduced  them.  The  Irishman  bowed  stiffly  but 
took  the  doctor's  hand  when  he  offered  it.  They  ex 
changed  a  few  words,  and  when  Page  had  gone  out 
with  the  girl,  Mahone  sat  down,  silent  for  a  few  mo 
ments,  and  then  he  blurted:  "More  trouble,  Rich 
ard." 

"With  that  fellow?  'Oh,  no,  Nettie  loves  him." 

"Begorry,  and  that  will  be  the  cause  of  it." 


Mahone  Sees  More  Trouble  Coming.         135 

"Why,  Dan,  you  don't  mean — 

"I  do  mean  that  same,  Richard.  It  can't  be  other 
wise;  it  must  come.  Lord  love  us  all,  what  a  world! 
When  we  are  thick  in  the  head  we  sit  in  the  shade 
and  nod,  and  when  at  last  we  are  clear  of  brain  we 
look  up  with  keen  eye  and  see  a  quarrel  coming;  but 
let  us  be  cheerful  over  things  that  can't  be  avoided. 
She  will  be  more  than  worth  every  blow  you  deal  to 
win  her." 

"But  I  thought  you  said  no  man  could  love  her  as 
he  would  a  sweetheart  or  a  wife. ' ' 

"Surely  I  did,  and  meant  as  she  is  now,  but  she 
will  grow  out  of  the  elf  and  become  the  most  mag 
nificent  of  women." 

"But  am  I  to  fall  in  love  with  her  on  that  ac 
count?"  I  sparred.  "Must  I  fall  in  love  with  every 
woman  because  she  happens  to  be  beautiful?" 

"Oh,  no,  but  you  are  to  love,  begorry,  to  the  death 
when  along  comes  a  woman  with  Fate  in  her  hair  and 
her  eyes.  Mind  that  now." 

"Then  your  warning  won't  help  matters  any." 

"Not  at  all,"  he  answered.  "All  the  warning  of 
all  the  saints  wouldn't  have  kept  me  from  falling  in 
love  with  Arabella,  Mind  that." 

"You  have  almost  forgotten  her,  Dan." 

"Forgotten  her  when.  I  would  water  the  flowers  on 
her  grave,  and  that  gladly  every  day,  if  she  only  had 
one.  And  willingly  would  I  make  her  one  if  she 
needed  it.  Richard,  you  could  no  more  drive  the 
thoughts  of  her  out  of  my  mind  than  you  could  drive 
a  flock  of  geese,  headed  by  an  obstreperous  gander, 
across  a  windy  plain.  Did  you  ever  attempt  to  drive 
geese  in  the  mind?  Try  it  once  and  you  will  see  the 
force  of  my  illustration.  I  wish  you  would  make 


136  "fty  the  Eternal." 

haste  with  your  recovery,"  he  continued,  having  fal 
len  for  a  few  moments  into  a  dream.  "I  get  very 
lonesome  in  the  heat  of  the  day,  over  at  that  store, 
not  a  soul  passing  along,  and  with  dazzling  heat 
dancing  away  down  the  road  as  I  sit  out  in  the  shade, 
looking  drowsy-eyed  down  the  road.  The  birds  are 
then  hidden  among  the  leaves  with  their  songs  tucked 
away  into  silence.  From  the  blue  of  the  distance  into 
the  white  clazzle  overhead  shoots  the  briar-eyed  hawk, 
a  feathered  hunger,  a  winged  famine;  and  the  birds 
looking  down  from  among  the  leaves  see  an  awful 
shadow,  cutting  through  the  sun-blaze  lying  on  the 
earth,  and  they  shudder  in  fear.  It  is  a  lonesome 
time  of  day  then,  Bichard.  Tom  Moore  drops  from 
my  hand,  and  then  I  know  nothing  till  I  hear  a  thump 
from  the  inside  of  the  store,  and  then  out  runs  a  stray 
dog,  with  a  sugar-cured  ham  by  the  shank.  It  is  not 
a  lonesome  time  of  day  for  him.  Mind  that.  And 
after  I  have  tried  to  pull  up  the  root  of  a  tree  to 
throw  at  him — after  I  have  followed  along,  whooping 
at  him  till  he  has  disappeared  down  in  the  woods,  I 
muse,  'that's  all  right,  old  fellow,  I  don't  blame  you 
much,'  and  then  return  to  the  shade.  That  reminds 
me.  I  have  disposed  of  one  copy  of  Moore's  poems. 
Yes,  sir — to  a  young  woman.  I  presented  it  to  her, 
with  my  compliments.  And  we  can't  tell  how  fast 
they'll  go  now  that  they've  got  a  start.  But  am  I 
tiring  you  with  all  this?" 

"No,  you  entertain  me." 

"Richard,  I  thank  you  for  that  lie.  But  don't 
fear  to  take  any  of  the  conceit  out  of  me.  In  truth, 
what  little  I  had  left  is  gone  from  me.  Beneath  the 
tree  yesterday,  I  looked  back  over  my  past  to  see  how 
—how  very  unlearned  I  am.  And  I  said  to  myself, 


Mahone  Sees  More  Trouble  Coming.         137 

'What,  sir,  have  you  ever  said  to  make  any  man 
think?'  Put  your  mind  down  on  that,  Richard.  To 
make  any  man  think.  What  is  the  worth  of  one  man 
to  another?  Not  to  lend  him  money,  not  to  help  him 
materially,  but  to  make  him  think.  That  is  the  use 
of  books — the  whole  of  education.  But  as  I  looked 
back  I  couldn't  see  that  I  had  made  any  one  think. 
And  I  said  to  myself,  'You  shallow  Latin  poets  and 
you  incomprehensible  Greek  tragedians,  what  have 
you  done  for  me  ?  Through  me  you  have  transmitted 
no  thought  to  my  fellow  man. '  I  make  men  smile,  but 
they  smile  when  a  fellow 's  hat  blows  off.  I  shall  soon 
be  thirty-three,  and  here  I  am  without  an  occupation. 
The  trouble  is  I  have  not  been  able  to  make  men 
think.  Why  is  a  Scotchman  successful?  Because  he 
cannot  make  people  laugh.  Sometimes  he  may  make 
them  think  he  is  a  dull  ass,  but  they  have  to  stop  and 
look  at  him  to  do  that,  and  when  they  do  he  sells  them 
something. ' ' 

The  brass  knocker  at  the  front  door  cut  him  off 
from  his  recital.  "There's  no  one  besides  ourselves 
in  the  house,  and  you'll  have  to  see  who  that  is," 
said  I. 

He  hastened  to  the  door  and  I  heard  him  cry :  ' '  Ah, 
who  can  this  be  but  yourself!  Come  in." 

The  visitor  spoke  but  I  did  not  recognize  the  voice 
other  than  that  it  was  the  tone  of  a  man.  "You 
will  find  him  inside,  sir,  sitting  up  like  the  lark  he 
is." 

In  came  Atcherson.  He  smiled  in  a  manner  becom 
ing  to  his  new  course  of  study  and  sedately  shook 
hands  with  me.  "Mr.  Staggs,"  he  said,  and  the  tick 
ing  of  a  midnight  clock  could  not  have  been  more 
solemn,  "the  Lord  has  forgiven  me." 


138  "By  the  Eternal." 

"Let  us  join  in  with  that  hope,"  the  Irishman  re 
plied.  "But  in  the  meantime,  kick  off  your  braided 
slippers  and  out  of  consideration  for  us  stand  in  the 
shoes  of  a  man." 

It  was  so  much  in  accord  with  what  was  in  my  own 
mind  that  I  laughed.  The  sprouting  Reverend,  smil 
ing,  made  answer:  "I  stand  in  the  shoes  that  walk 
the  narrow  way." 

"Begorry,  if  you  stand  you  don't  walk,"  said  Ma- 
hone.  "Sit  down  and  rest  while  you're  standing." 

"Brother  Staggs,"  Atcherson  began,  and  the 
Irishman  cried :  ' '  Put  your  mind  on  that,  Richard. ' ' 

Atcherson,  now  in  the  rocking-chair  with  the  tips 
of  his  fingers  pressed  together,  smiled  faintly  at  him 
and  then  proceeded  to  address  me :  "  Brother  Staggs. 
I  have  been  exceedingly  busy  with  my  studies  or  I 
should  have  been  out  to  see  you  sooner.  And  I  may 
say  now  that  I  am  much  pleased  to  see  you  doing  so 
well — in  the  flesh,  this  heavy  flesh  of  earth." 

"His  flesh  is  not  so  heavy  as  it  was,"  answered  the 
Irishman.  ' '  They  have  extracted  the  bullet. ' ' 

Again  Atcherson  smiled  at  him,  though  weak  and 
feebly.  The  Irishman  gave  him  a  broad,  good  hu 
mored  grin. 

"Brother  Staggs,"  said  the  embryo  preacher,  "I 
have  come  out  to  have  a  little  talk  with  you,  and  my 
hope  is  that  it  may  be  profitable." 

Mahone  asked  if  he  did  not  think  that  he  ought  to 
have  deferred  his  talk  until  I  should  be  stronger,  but 
to  this  he  did  not  accede.  He  shook  his  head  slowly 
and  addressed  himself  to  me. 

"Brother  Staggs—" 

"Atcherson,"  I  broke  in  upon  him,  "you  called  me 


Methane  Sees  More  Trouble  Coming.        139 

Staggs  at  school.  Don't  bother  with  calling  me 
brother  now." 

"Forget  his  rhetoric,"  murmured  Mahone. 

"Oh,  be  it  as  you  wish,"  said  Atcherson.  "But 
from  my  present  point  of  view  Staggs  sounds  harsh. ' ' 

The  Professor  spoke  up.  "From  points  of  view 
things  appear.  They  do  not  sound." 

"As  you  wish,  sir,"  Atcherson  agreed. 

"Not  as  I  wish  but  as  it  is." 

' '  Very  well,  sir ;  but  no  quibble  shall  keep  me  from 
my  purpose.  I  wish  to  talk — to  Richard  concerning 
his  soul." 

The  Irishman  bowed.  "It  is  man 's  privilege,  not  to 
say  his  province,  to  talk  on  subjects  of  which  he  knows 
nothing. ' ' 

"Atcherson,"  said  I,  "as  to  my  soul,  it  is  in  good 
hands — in  the  hands  of  its  Creator,  and  the  mere 
fact  that  you  have  been  stricken  with  remorse,  does 
not  make  you  better  acquainted  with  it  than  I  am." 

"Richard,"  said  he,  "do  not  say  stricken  with  ra- 
morse  but  repentance ;  and  the  man  who  repents  is 
nearer  unto  grace  than  the  man  who  does  not." 

' '  Well,  what  is  it  you  want  me  to  subscribe  to  ? " 

"I  solicit  no  humiliating  subscription,  Richard,  but 
I  do  yearn  to  see  you  humbled  in  repentance. ' ' 

"Atcherson,"  said  Mahone,  "it  hasn't  made  you 
humble  but  arrogant.  You  may  not  know  it,  but  it 
has.  I  believe  you  are  sincere — mind  that — but  as 
yet  there  are  a  few  weeds  growing  in  this  new  garden 
of  yours,  and  you  ought  to  root  them  out  .before  you 
come  it  too  strong  with  other  men.  It  is  easy  enough 
for  one  that  has  been  of  us  to  come  around  and  to  de 
clare  that  he  has  vomited  up  his  part  of  the  devil, 
eaten  for  us  all  by  old  Adam.  And  we  accept  his  pal- 


140  "By  the  Eternal" 

lor  and  his  cold  sweat  as  the  evidences  of  his  violent 
wretching.  That  is  well  enough.  But  we  can't  help 
seeing  that  he  is  proud  of  his  humility,  and  as  the 
dramatist  says,  'This  gives  us  pause.'  Wait  till  your 
new  garments  settle  better  upon  you  before  you  de 
mand  of  us  that  we  shall  follow  your  fashion.  Tell 
us  some  news,  Atcherson.  What  is  going  on  in  town  ? ' ' 

Atcherson's  countenance  had  undergone  a  change, 
had  softened  into  an  expression  of  charity.  "Profes 
sor,"  he  spoke,  "there  is  truth  in  what  you  have  just 
said.  And  I  feel  already  that  I  am  going  to  profit 
by  it.  We  are  too  much  inclined  to  make  a  boast  of 
our  humility.  There  is  a  better  way  of  getting  at 
each  other 's  faults  than  by  assuming  a  moral  superior 
ity  ;  it  is  by  the  true  fellowship  of  gentleness  and  for 
bearance.  And,  Professor,  I  am  beholden  to  you." 

"A  good  old  accommodating  word,  beholden,"  the 
Irishman  replied,  his  countenance  brightening.  ' '  And 
I  thank  you  for  taking  what  I  said  in  such  good  part. 
You  have  never  been  a  bad  fellow,  Atcherson ;  I  told 
you  so  the  day  when  I  took  the  knife  out  of  your 
hand,  and  kept  you  from  stabbing  Foster  Pryor.  But, 
of  course,  you  have  repented  of  all  such  little  whims, 
and  when  the  time  comes  for  you  to  preach,  we  will 
all  be  there,  and  begorry,  we'll  cry  'Amen'  upon  the 
first  word — and  thank  you  for  the  last  one.  Now  that 
we  have  got  back  down  into  the  low  ground  of  human 
nature  you  can  tell  us  the  news,  I  hope." 

"The  town  is  becoming  a  city  very  fast,"  said  At 
cherson.  "And  morality  is  striving  to  keep  pace 
with  material  progress.  They  have  passed  a  law 
against  billiards,  and  we  hope  after  a  while  to  get  an 
enactment  that  will  effectually  prevent  dueling.  The 
forthcoming  numbers  of  the  weekly  newspapers  may 


Mahone  Sees  More  Trouble  Coming.        141 

record  these  things,  together  with  the  fact  that  night 
before  last  John  Slater  shot  and  killed  Moses  C.  Tabb, 
the  difficulty  arising  out  of  the  disputed  ownership 
of  a  negro  man,  Slater  claiming  to  have  won  him. 
But  Tabb  persisted  that  Slater  had  filched  a  card 
from  the  deck  and — " 

"Meaning  thereby,"  broke  in  the  Professor,  "that 
the  transfer  of  property  right  -was  irregular. ' ' 

' '  The  same, ' '  said  Atcherson.  ' '  And  you  remember 
Brad  Royston,  don't  you!" 

"Very  well,"  Mahone  answered.  "The  last  time  I 
saw  him  we  had  a  dish  of  cove  oysters  together.  Does 
he  own  that  greyhound  yet?" 

' '  I  am  sorry  to  relate  that  he  doesn  't  own  anything, 
and  that  is  what  I  was  going  to  speak  about.  He  was 
usually  a  peaceable  fellow,  except  when  in  his  cups 
and—" 

' '  In  his  half -gallon  measures, ' '  Mahone  interrupted. 
"Mere  cups  were  too  shallow  for  him." 

"Yes,  he  drank  deep  or  not  at  all.  Well,  he  was 
drinking  deep  when  he  and  Nat  Roscoe  met;  nor  was 
it  long  before  they  drew  and  fired.  Royston  fell  on 
the  sidewalk  in  front  of  Harvey's  store  and — 

"And  the  Harveys,  sir,  how  are  they  getting 
along?"  Mahone  broke  in.  "Do  they  keep  boarders, 
or  does  Mrs.  Harvey  that  was — or  rather  Arabella 
that  was  and  Mrs.  Harvey  that  is — does  she  stand  in 
the  store,  giving  to  silk  a  smile  for  a  shimmer?  Tell 
me  about  her.  Never  mind  Royston.  It  is  enough  to 
know  that  he's  dead,  saints  rest  his  soul.  Does  she 
look  happy?" 

' '  I  thought  so  when  I  saw  her  the  other  day, ' '  said 
Atcherson,  dropping  the  Royston  tragedy.  "She  ap 
peared  in  excellent  health." 


142  "By  the  Eternal." 

"A  fine  compliment  to  me,"  the  Professor  replied. 
"But  tell  me,  does  she  seem  to  be  fond. of  that  counter 
jumper?  Don't  disguise  the  truth  from  me.  I  am 
prepared  to  stand  it." 

"I  should  think  you  would  be,"  I  remarked. 

"I  am,  sir,  and  there's  no  mistake." 

"She  is  devoted  to  him,"  said  Atcherson. 

"Easy,  now,  easy,",  the  Irishman  warned  him.  "I 
can  stand  much  but  not  everything.  Easy.  Such  as 
surances,  sir,  rob  me  of  my  last  vestige  of  hope." 

"Why,  what  hope  could  you  have  had  after  she  was 
married  ? ' ' 

"I  could  have  that  very  natural,  that  human  na 
ture  hope,  sir,  that  she  might  be  miserable.  Does  her 
husband  look  strong?" 

"He  is  not  fat,  but  he  looks  well." 

"Tell  me  no  more.  So  Royston  is  dead.  He  was  a 
good  fiddler  and  the  community  will  miss  him.  Well, 
as  I  left  the  store  open  and  as  there 's  no  one  to  look 
after  things  it  is  time  I  was  getting  back.  Atcherson, 
I  am  much  obliged  for  your  news,  and  I  am  glad  you 
took  in  good  part  what  I  said  to  you." 

After  Mahone  had  gone,  Atcherson  began  to  sound 
my  conscience.  He  asked  if  it  did  not  weigh  upon 
me  dreadfully  that  I  had  killed  a  man,  although  it 
could  not  well  have  been  avoided.  He  seemed  disap 
pointed  when  I  assured  him  that  I  had  lost  no  sleep. 

"It  was  my  hope,"  said  he,  "that  you  might  turn 
as  I  have  and  become  a  preacher  of  the  Word.  Then 
together  we  could  go  throughout  the  country,  doing 
a  great  work.  I  feel  that  I  have  been  called." 

"And  when  I  feel  that  I  have,  I  shall  go,"  I  an 
swered. 

"But,  perhaps,  you  have  been  called  and  do  not 


Mdlione  Sees  More  Trouble  Coming.        143 

yet  feel  it.  It  may  be  that  I  shall  interpret  that  call 
to  you." 

"Atcherson,  I  accepted  something  of  your  former 
faith — in  Fate,  and  I  believe  that  she  has  singled  me 
out  for  some  other  purpose.  From  instant  death  I 
was  almost  miraculously  saved,  and  for  a  purpose 
which  after  a  while  will  be  made  plain  to  me.  If  it 
be  to  preach,  I  shall  accept  it.  Whatever  it  may  be 
1  shall  take  it  up.  In  yourself  have  all  possible  faith, 
but  let  me  warn  you  not  to  believe  you  have  been  ap 
pointed  to  convert  me." 

"Then  my  coming  has  been  vain." 

"Not  at  all;  I  am  glad  to  see  you.  Tell  me  some 
thing  about  the  school." 

He  arose  to  take  his  leave.  In  an  after  year,  amid 
fire  and  smoke,  I  saw  him  stand  just  as  he  stood  now, 
thoughtful,  youth  in  the  habiliments  of  deep  solemn 
ity.  From  the  hallway  his  retiring  footsteps  were 
still  echoing  when  in  ran  Nettie,  the  elf,  with  her 
hands  full  of  dew-berries;  and  she  insisted  upon 
feeding  them  to  me,  one  at  a  time,  her  purple  fingers 
touching  my  lips. 

"Cousin  Wilbur  saw  Uncle  Andrew  coming  and 
went  to  meet  him  and  they  have  gone  out  to  the  pas 
ture  to  look  at  the  colts,"  she  said,  standing  beside 
me,  slowly  putting  the  berries  into  my  mouth. 
"Cousin  Wilbur  asked  me  if  I  wanted  to  go,  too,  and 
I  told  him  I  had  to  come  in  here  and  give  you  these 
berries,  and  he  said  I  mustn't  be  foolish.  And  you 
know  what  he  said  to  me?  That  I  must  go  away  off 
somewhere  to  a  boarding-school.  He  said  his  mother, 
Aunt  'Riah,  wanted  me  to — here's  another  one,  big 
one — and  I  told  him  I  loved  Aunt  Rachel  better  than 
Aunt  'Riah.  That's  what  I  told  him.  Here's  the 


144  "By  the  Eternal." 

last  one.  And  I  have  come  to  like  you,  now,"  she 
said  in  her  innocence.  "We  don't  want  to  go  away 
just  as  soon  as  we  like  anybody,  do  we?  Of  course, 
I'm  ignorant,  but  I  don't  want  to  be  smart — it's  so 
dangerous.  Would  you  fight  for  me  if  I  were  smart  ? ' ' 
"What  nonsense  are  you  talking?"  I  heard  from 
without,  and  looking  up,  I  saw  Page  standing  near 
the  window. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

IN  THE  BUGGY. 

WHEN  I  awoke  on  the  following  morning,  after 
a  night  not  wholly  of  sound  sleep,  my  first 
thought  was  in  the  form  of  a  speculation  as 
to  how  long  that  fellow  Page  might  remain.  In  some 
way,  he  was  distantly  related  to  Mrs.  Jackson,  and 
this  was  quite  sufficient  to  endear  him  to  the  General. 
I  had  no  right  to  wish  him  to  go.  I  felt  that  any  ex 
cuse  I  could  find  for  my  dislike  of  him  must  be  con 
temptibly  petty.  80,  I  wras  still  resolved  not  to  hate 
him.  I  compromise J  Vvith — not  to  like  him.  Of 
course,  at  the  proper  time  i«3  would  marry  the  girl, 
as  was  his  right;  nor  had  I  aught  to  say  or  to  feel 
against  this  arrangement.  It  was  not  possible  that  I 
could  so  soon  be  in  love,  after  Arabella,  and  that,  too, 
with  a  child.  But  how  different  were  the  two  situa 
tions!  Arabella  had  come  at  me  with  the  perfected 
art  of  an  experienced  woman,  and  I  yielded  to  it,  but 
this  girl  had  no  art  at  all.  Indeed,  I  had  not  really 
known  what  this  art  was  until  she  taught  me  what  it 
was  not.  My  admiration  for  Arabella  could  have  been 
none  other  than  vanity  on  my  own  part.  To  bring 
out  her  smiles,  mechanical  as  they  were,  had  thrilled 
me — with  my  own  sex  prowess.  And  when  I  was  on 
my  knees  at  her  feet,  pleading  for  her  love,  there  was 
somewhere  within  me  a  contempt  for  myself.  But 
this  girl !  When  one  by  one  she  was  placing  the  dew- 

145 


146  "By  the  Eternal." 

berries  to  my  lips,  I  felt  that  she  was  feeding  to  me 
bits  of  her  own  sweet  nature.  . 

As  I  was  sitting  at  the  window,  she  came  down  the 
veranda,  or  gallery,  as  we  then  termed  it,  books  in 
satchel,  moping  her  way  to  school  in  unconscious 
grace.  She  halted,  looked  back  and  then  spoke  to  me : 

"They  said  I  had  to  go  and  I  must.  Ain't  you 
sorry  for  me?" 

"Yes,  I  am,"  and  I  told  her  the  truth.  "I  am  as 
sorry  for  you  as  I  am  for  all  imprisoned  birds." 

"Thank  you  so  much.  But  Cousin  Wilbur  is  look 
ing  and  I  must  go.  Good-bye." 

She  pretended  to  run  away,  looking  back,  and  her 
bud  lips  burst  into  a  rose. 

Not  long  afterward  Page  came  into  the  room. 
"How  that  girl  hates  to  go  to  school,"  he  said,  sit 
ting  down.  ' '  I  suppose  you  know  she  is  to  become  my 
wife  at  the  proper  time." 

"Yes,  I  have  heard  so." 

"Family  arrangement,"  he  said.  "But  a  very 
good  one  I  am  inclined  to  think.  I  believe  somewhere 
in  the  Bible  it  says  that  a  soldier  is  better  accommo 
dated  than  with  a  wife,  but  it  does  not  say  a  physi 
cian." 

"Bible  your  grandmother's  cat,"  exclaimed  Ma- 
hone,  of  whose  presence  I  had  not  been  aware.  "It 
was  spoken  by  Bardolph,  one  of  the  immortal  dis 
reputables,  with  reference  to  his  master,  Sir  John,  tal 
low  ketch,  larder  of  the  lean  earth." 

"I  am  still  in  the  woods  even  after  all  that  lucid 
ity  of  explanation,"  the  doctor  acknowledged.  "But 
I  beg  your  pardon,  I  did  not  know  that  I  had  been 
addressing  you." 

"No  offense,  I  assure  you,"  answered  the  Irish- 


In  the  Buggy.  147 

man.  "Richard,  the  General  says  I  am  to  have  you 
lifted  into  the  buggy  arid  to  take  you  for  a  drive. ' ' 

This  was  delightful  news,  and  I  felt  strong  enough 
to  walk  out  to  the  gate,  but  two  negroes  came  in  to 
carry  me.  Page  followed  along,  with  words  of  cau 
tion.  The  General  stood  out  by  the  horse-block.  He 
had  just  come  in  from  a  fox  chase,  and  his  hounds 
were  gathered  about  him,  some  of  them  stretched  up 
on  the  ground,  weary  with  their  night's  work.  One 
old  fellow,  a  veteran,  sat  gazing  up  at  his  master's 
face. 

"I  thought  that  a  drive  would  do  you  good,"  said 
the  General.  "But  wouldn't  you  feel  safer  with  Dr. 
Page?" 

' '  I  have  been  a  medical  student,  sir, ' '  Mahone  spoke 
up.  "But  of  course  we  will  leave  it  to  Richard." 

It  was  rather  an  awkward  position,  but  I  decided 
almost  instantly.  I  said  that  as  the  Professor  and  I 
were  old  friends  and  therefore  had  many  things  in 
common  to  discuss,  I  preferred  him.  "And  very  nat 
urally  so,"  Page  good  humoredly  answered. 

"I  was  afraid  that  courtesy  would  influence  your 
decision  against  me,"  said  Mahone  as  we  drove  along. 
"I  knew  that  fellow  would  spoil  it  all  for  you.  See 
that  rabbit  hop  over  there  with  the  sun  shining 
through  his  thin  ears.  Ah,  if  everything  were  all 
right  and  there  was  nothing  to  worry  over,  what  a 
glorious  thing  it  would  be  to  live.  By  the  way  I 
have  succeeded  in  disposing  of  another  copy  of  Tom 
Moore.  You  remember  I  told  you  of  my  giving  one 
to  a  young  woman.  Well,  she  came  back,  so  pleased 
she  was  with  hei*  bargain,  and  said  she  wanted  an 
other  copy,  for  her  aunt.  How  does  this  air  make 
you  feel?" 


148  "By  the  Eternal." 

"As  if  I  were  flying.  But  why  are  you  turning 
off  into  this  lane?" 

"Ah,  do  you  see  that  little  house  over  yonder  be 
neath  the  big  trees?  Well,  that  is  the  school-house." 

My  heart  jumped. 

"And  we  are  going  to  drive  by  there  slowly  and 
perhaps  stop  for  a  moment  or  two, ' '  said  Mahone.  ' '  It 
will  be  recess  by  the  time  we  get  there  and  I  want 
you  to  see  a  beautiful  sight,  the  elf  racing  about  on 
the  grass.  I've  been  over  before — I  made  them  a 
speech;  and  the  one  that  clapped  hands  the  loudest 
was  the  elf  herself.  But  let  me  ease  your  mind.  I 
shall  never  be  in  love  with  her.  No,  sir.  In  the  case 
of  Arabella  you  sacrificed  yourself  in  my  favor,  and 
now  I  shall  do  as  much  for  you.  And  it  does  me  good 
to  see  that  you  are  stealing  her  heart  away  from  that 
fellow  who  never  had  it  at  all.  See,  they  are  piling 
out  of  the  door,  and  there  she  is — I  could  tell  her  a 
mile  off.  Richard,  she  is  a  child,  but  you  are  in  love 
with  her." 

"Dan,  I  must  beg  of  you  not  to  talk  that  way. 
You  must  never  do  so  again.  I  should  be  a  wolf  to 
attempt  to  steal  her  love,  and  I  could  not  possess  it 
in  any  other  way." 

"Surely  not.  Who  ever  possessed  the  love  of  a 
woman  that  he  didn  't  steal  it  ?  A  woman  expects  her 
love  to  be  stolen,  when  she  leaves  it  exposed,  and  little 
respect  she  has  for  a  man  if  he  does  not  steal  it. 
Mind  that.  Ah,  she  sees  us  and  is  coming  out  to  the 
fence. ' ' 

She  came,  bonnetless,  her  hair  a  blue-black  blaze  in 
the  sun.  "Oh,"  she  cried,  "did  you  come  to  see  me? 
Thank  you  so  much.  Mr.  Mahone,  you  get  out  and 


In  the  Buggy.  149 

let  me  drive  Mr.  Richard  around,  just  a  little  bit, 
won't  you  please?" 

"I  will  and  there's  no  mistake,"  Mahone  answered. 
' '  Ha,  if  she  hasn  't  climbed  the  fence  like  a  squirrel. ' ' 

Mahone  got  out  and  she  was  in  the  buggy  before 
he  could  assist  her.  "You  must  let  me  drive,"  she 
said,  catching  up  the  lines.  "Oh,  I'm  a  good  driver. 
Good-bye,  Mr.  Mahone.  Give  our  love  to  everybody. ' ' 

Was  there  a  music  of  the  spheres?  Was  that  sweet 
melody  the  hum  of  this  old  earth? 

The  lane  led  out  into  the  grassy  woods,  a  river 
emptying  into  the  sea.  I  spoke  this  fancy,  and  point 
ing  to  a  moss-covered  log  she  said:  "And  there  is  an 
old  whale  resting  himself." 

"After  having  had  to  give  up  Jonah,"  I  said,  and* 
holding  the  lines  with  one  hand  she  made  as  if  she 
would  stop  my  irreverent  mouth  with  the  other. 

"It  is  wicked  to  make  fun  out  of  the  Bible,"  she 
declared.  "But  Jonah  must  have  felt  awfully  q*ueer, 
there  in  the  dark,  for  a  whale  hasn't  any  lights,  like 
an  animal  has."  She  bowed  over  the  lines  and 
shrieked  with  laughter  at  this  conceit.  I  joined  with 
her,  and  looking  up  she  said  that  we  ought  to  be 
ashamed  of  ourselves. 

"Oh,"  she  cried,  "I  know  where  some  dew-ber 
ries  are,  over  by  the  fence  at  the  edge  of  the  woods; 
and  we'll  drive  over  there  and  I'll  pick  them  for 
you." 

"But  I'm  afraid  we  shall  not  have  time,"  I  pro 
tested,  weakly,  hypocritically.  "The  bell  will  ring 
pretty  soon." 

"Yes,  but  we  can't  hear  it  from  there,"  she  laughed. 
"And  they  can't  blame  us  if  we  didn't  hear  the  bell. 
Oh,  isn't  it  fine  to  be  out  here?  There  oughten't  to 


150  "By  the  Eternal" 

be  any  winter,  ought  there?  Winter  comes  after  the 
year  has  gone  to  school  and  is  smart." 

"You  are  poetry,  like  a  blossom,"  I  said. 

''If  Cousin  Wilbur  talked  to  me  like  that  I'd  be 
sorrier  when  he  goes  away.  I  love  poetry  because  it 
doesn't  try  to  teach  me  anything.  But  Cousin  Wil 
bur  may  talk  like  that  after  a  while,  when  we  are 
married  and  have  a  house  of  our  own." 

If  she  had  wanted  to  escape  from  him  she  did  not 
seem  to  think  that  there  was  any  possible  way.  The 
plan  of  her  marriage  to  him  was  engrafted  upon  her 
very  nature.  It  was -to  come  as  naturally  as  that  a 
birthday  should  fall,  a  yellowed  autumn  leaf.  Wo 
man,  the  necklace  of  pearls  and  of  diamonds  you 
wear  is  a  rusty  chain,  if  you  could  see  it  in  the  light 
of  truth;  and  its  name  is  obligation  to  man.  Nearly 
all  of  your  jewelry,  your  bracelets  and  your  rings, 
are  but  glittering  reminiscences  of  ancient  bondage. 
And  in  what  lies  the  only  hope  of  your  emancipation  ? 
Not  in  the  discharge  of  your  duty,  not  in  the  love 
you  may  bear  your  children,  but  in  that  love  which 
must  be  enkindled  to  light  the  heavens  and  the  earth 
— the  love  between  you  and — not  your  master,  but 
your  companion — a  man. 

' '  He  will  talk  to  me  that  way,  won 't  he  ? "  she  said, 
and  out  of  the  depths  of  an  ache,  which  I  thought  was 
an  honorable  heart,  I  answered,  "Oh,  yes,  when  the 
time  comes.  There 's  the  bell. " 

She  dropped  the  lines  and  clapped  her  hands  to 
her  ears.  "I  don't  hear  it,"  she  said.  "Has  it 
stopped?" 

I  nodded.  She  took  her  hands  from  her  ears  and 
gathered  up  the  lines.  I  told  her  that  we  must  turn 
back.  "Oh,  not  yet,"  she  pleaded  with  her  lips  and 


In  the  Buggy.  151 

with  her  eyes  turned  full  upon  me.  "We  haven't  got 
any  dew-berries  yet — not  a  single  one,  and  they 
oughtn't  to  expect  us  to  come  back  now.  Mr.  Ma- 
hone  will  tell  them." 

"But  he  can  only  tell  them  that  we  haven't  come 
back,"  I  laughed,  making  no  effort  to  turn  the  horse 
about. 

"And  that's  all  they  need  to  know." 

We  came  to  a  brook.  She  said  that  old  Tom,  the 
horse,  wanted  a  drink,  and  without  halting  him  she 
walked  out  upon  the  shaft,  holding  on,  laughing,  pre 
tending  that  she  was  about  to  fall,  and  unhooked  the 
check  rein.  She  patted  him  on  the  back  as  he  drank, 
beads  of  water  trickling  from  a  corner  of  his  mouth, 
and  told  him  how  good  it  was  of  him  not  to  turn 
around  when  he  heard  that  miserable  old  bell.  When 
she  hooked  the  check  rein  and  came  back  to  her  seat 
beside  me,  she  seemed  so  free  and  so  happy  that  I 
had  not  the  heart  to  do  my  duty,  to  insist  upon  her 
returning  to  the  school  house ;  and  so  we  drove  along 
through  the  cool  woods,  charmed  with  everything  we 
saw,  a  brown  thrush  with  a  proud  spread  of  tail,  a 
wavy  gray  streak  of  squirrel  drawn  across  the  sward. 

"This  is  the  way  Cousin  Wilbur  and  I  will  drive 
to  church,  one  of  these  days, ' '  she  said,  and  to  .myself 
I  mused,  "Oh,  velvet  kitten,  how  sharp  can  be  thy 
claws. ' ' 

We  had  not  come  within  sight  of  the  fence  where 
the  dew-berries  were,  so  I  said  to  her: 

' '  Nettie,  we  must  go  back.  If  we  don 't  your  cousin 
will  have  good  cause  to  scold  us  both." 

Without  a  word  she  turned  old  Tom  about,  and 
with  the  lines  tapped  him  into  a  trot.  "And  I  do 
hate  to  have  him  scold  me,"  she  said. 


152  "By  the  Eternal," 

"Because  it  seems  to  hurt  him  so?"  I  inquired. 

"No,  because  it  seems  to  do  him  so  much  good,  but 
after  a  while  when  I  am  older  I  will  scold  him.  After 
she  is  married  a  woman  can  beat  a  man  scolding,  all 
to  pieces,  my  Uncle  James  used  to  say.  Poor  Uncle 
James,  he  went  away  to  fight  the  Indians  and  they 
killed  him.  Nearly  all  my  men  kinfolks  have  been 
killed.  A  girl  that  came  to  visit  at  Aunt  'Riah's 
house — that's  Cousin  Wilbur's  mother — said  that  in 
New  York.  State  where  she  lived  they  didn't  kill 
people  at  all.  She  said  not  one  of  her  kinfolks  had 
been  killed,  and  I  said  to  her,  'why  how  funny  you 
must  feel. '  She  looked  at  me  as  if  she  thought  I  was 
crazy.  How  many  people  there  are  that  don 't  know 
when  you  are  joking  with  them.  Well,  yonder 's  that 
hateful  old  school.  It's  not  much  trouble  for  me  to 
learn,  and  I  suppose  I'll  have  to  after  a  while,  but 
somehow  I've  always  wanted  to  put  it  off  as  long  as 
possible.  Do  you  want  me  to  learn?" 

"Yes;  and  when  I  have  learned,  too,  you  and  I 
shall  have  something  in  common  aside  from — " 

"Aside  from  merely  liking  each  other,"  she  broke 
in,  with  a  laugh.  "Then  I  will  learn — I  will  begin 
today  and  I  '11  study  hard,  but  you  must  let  me  be  nat 
ural  and  talk  like  I  want  to  for  a  long  time  yet.  You 
know  they  told  me  what  a  student  you  were — but  I 
shouldn't  have  guessed  it,  for  with  you  I  always  feel 
so  free  and  easy.  There's  Mr.  Mahone,  walking  up 
and  down  the  lane,  worrying  fit  to  kill  himself.  I 
can't  help  it.  I  didn't  hear  the  bell." 

Refusing  to  let  Mahone  help  her  down,  she  jumped 
out  of  the  buggy,  climbed  the  fence  and  ran  into  the 
house.  The  Irishman  got  in,  his  face  beaming.  He 


In  the  Buggy.  153 

was  silent  until  we  had  driven  half  way  back  to  the 
main  road.  Then  he  blurted: 

"She  loves  you  Richard.  Don't  protest  with  me, 
for  I  am  one  that  knows.  She  doesn't  know  it  yet, 
and  it  may  be  some  time  before  she  finds  it  out,  but 
the  time  will  come  and  before  the  day  set  for  her 
marriage  with  that — that  pale  spalpeen.  Ah,  how 
much  better  they  must  be  when  you  catch  them  young 
— children ;  how  much  better  than  to  let  them  become 
widows  before  you  land  them,  for  then  you  may  have 
them  not.  You're  silent  my  boy,  and  it  becomes  you. 
Nor  was  it  your  talk  that  won  the  child.  Them  that 's 
won  by  talk  are  sometimes  lost  by  the  same.  What 
did  win  her  for  you  ?  Yourself  and  the  fact  that  you 
were  wounded  and  needed  tenderness;  and  when  a 
girl  sees  a  likely  youth  in  that  same  fix,  her  heart 
melts  and  runs  down  to  the  tips  of  her  fingers,  and 
then  it  is  that  she  wants  to  touch  his  lips  or  his  brow, 
and  then  it  was  that  this  child  slipped  into  the  room 
and  put  the  hair  back  out  of  your  eyes.  Yes,  but  it 
means  trouble,  Richard.  That  fellow  won't  give  her 
up  without  a  struggle.  He  is  pale,  and  the  average 
pale  man  will  shoot  you  if  the  occasion  arrives — and 
he  doesn't  always  wait  till. you  have  chosen  your  sec 
ond." 

"Dan,"  said  I,  "taking  for  granted  that  there  is 
truth  in  all  that  you  say,  what  am  I  to  do?" 

' '  Arrah,  well  put.  You  will  do  what  Fate  tells  you 
— you  will  wait.  You  can't  run  away  from  that  girl. 
A  saint  himself  couldn't  do  that.  You  can't  do  any 
thing  to  cause  her  to  think  ill  of  you.  That  would 
shock  the  devil  himself.  Ah,  it's  always  my  luck  to 
see  trouble  coming.  But  for  the  first  bud  of  a  love 
like  that,  I'd  let  myself  be  filled  so  full  of  lead  that 


154  "By  the  Eternal." 

they  might  beat  me  out  flat  and  cover  the  roof  of  a 
church  with  me.  Education  might  make  an  English 
man  of  any  son  of  Adam,  but  the  sight  of  a  young 
girl  like  that  would  make  him  Irish  all  over.  Well, 
so  far  as  you  are  now  concerned,  Richard,  the  drive 
is  over  and  we  might  as  well  go  to  the  house." 

I  assented,  and  from  the  lane  we  turned  toward 
the  Hermitage.  Not  far  in  front  of  us  was  a  buggy, 
and  in  it  were  a  man  and  a  woman. 

' '  We  will  give  them  a  taste  of  our  speed, ' '  said  Ma- 
hone  "Old  Tom  is  a  famous  trotter.  Look  out  for 
us." 

The  woman  looked  around.  Mahone  seized  my  arm. 
"Arabella!"  he  gasped. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

^HE  BEGGED  HIM  TO  LET  HER  STAY. 

THE  buggy  halted  at  our  gate  and  Harvey  was 
helping  his  wife  to  alight  as  we  drove  up.  "Oh, 
I  am  so  glad  to  see  you  out  and  looking  so  well," 
she  cried,  running  toward  me.  "And  how  are  you, 
Mr.  Mahone?"  she  added,  halting  at  the  wheel.  She 
seized  me  by  the  hand.  "Dear  old  Richard,"  she 
said.  During  this  time  Mahone  was  sputtering,  mak 
ing  no  effort  to  get  out. 

"I — I — am  as  well,  Madam — beg  your  pardon, 
Miss.  As  well  as  the  circumstances  of  the  occasion 
will  permit.  With  your  permission,  I  will  alight." 
He  jumped  out,  striking  the  ground  like  a  log,  end 
first.  "Beautiful  weather,  Mrs.  Crenshaw  that  was — 
Mrs.  Harvey.  We  were  going  to  have  rain  last  night, 
but  didn't.  Ah,  and  there  is  your  husband." 

Having  tied  his  horse,  Harvey  came  forward.  He 
took  my  hand  rather  cordially  for  him,  and  then  shook 
hands  with  Mahone  as  unconcernedly  as  if  nothing 
had  ever  chanced,  and  asked  him  if  he  were  well.  The 
Irishman  swore  that  he  had  never  been  so  well  in  his 
entire  life,  and  Arabella  cried,  "Oh  isn't  that  nice!" 

' '  Don 't  try  to  get  out, ' '  Mahone  cautioned  me.  "  I  '11 
get  the  negroes  to  help  you  into  the  house." 

' '  Give  me  your  hand  and  I  '11  need  no  other  help, ' ' 
said  I.  "Thank  you,  Mrs.  Harvey."  She  was  assist 
ing  me ;  and  with  her  on  one  side  of  me  and  Mahone 
on  the  other  I  walked  easily.  There  was  something  in 
my  heart  that  made  me  light. 

1 55 


156  "By  the  Eternal." 

Harvey  walked  behind  us,  commenting  upon  the 
shaded  beauty  of  the  place.  ' '  Oh, ' '  his  wife  laughed, 
"and  is  it  possible  that  you  have  discovered  it?  You 
know,  Richard,  he  rarely  ever  sees  anything  but  a 
price  mark.'* 

"I  saw  a  pretty  high  one  on  you,  my  lady,"  he  an 
swered. 

"Indeed  you  did,"  she  replied.  "And  the  market 
value  hasn't  stopped  going  up  yet,  I  tell  you.  Oh, 
Richard,  who  is  that  beautiful  girl,  out  there?  Why 
don 't  you  answer  me  ?  Is  it  possible  you  don 't  know 
that — that  magnificent  witch?  Here  she  comes.  Look 
out,  you  are  stumbling. ' ' 

"She  is — Miss  Blakemore,"  I  answered;  "One  of 
the  army  of  the  adopted." 

Nettie  came  running,  the  dogs  following  her.  I 
waited  for  Mahone  to  introduce  her,  which  he  did 
with  many  marks  upon  the  path;  and  when  the  girl 
had  acknowledged  the  introduction,  which  she  did 
with  laughter  and  the  shaking  of  her  marvelous  head, 
to  throw  the  hair  back  from  her  eyes,  she  playfully 
ordered  Mahone  to  get  away.  "I  am  going  to  help 
take  him  into  the  house,"  she  said.  She  took  hold  of 
my  arm,  peeping  at  Arabella. 

"Do  they  send  you  to  search  for  the  black  tulip ? ' ' 
Arabella  asked,  smiling  at  her. 

"No,  they  put  a  black  book  in  my  hand  and  send 
me  to  school.    And  I  steal  away  sometimes  and  look 
at  the  old  whale  that  swallowed  Jonah." 
^  "Jonah,"  cried  Arabella. 

"Well,  Mr.  Jonah,  then.  Come  on  into  the  house 
now,  and  then  we'll  all  see  whether  we  are  glad  you 
came  or  not.  There  is  my  cousin  Wilbur  standing  in 
the  door.  See,"  she  cried,  "I  am  helping  to  bring 
him." 


She  Begged  Him  to  Let  Her  Stay.          157 

The  young  doctor  stepped  down  gracefully,  to  meet 
the  visitors,  but  to  me  it  seemed  to  concern  him  but 
little  whether  I  was  brought  in  or  turned  out  upon 
the  road.  He  gave  me  a  look  that  I  didn  't  like,  but  I 
was  still  resolved  not  to  hate  him.  Harvey  glanced 
at  his  ' '  price  mark, ' '  and  mechanically  took  his  hand, 
but  Arabella  gushed  over  him,  and  Mahone  whispered 
to  me :  ' '  Do  you  mind  that,  now ! ' ' 

With  her  ever  present  air  of  motherly  dignity  Mrs. 
Jackson  met  us  in  the  parlor.  Arabella,  who  really 
loved  her,  I  believe,  kissed  her  rapturously,  and  again 
the  Irishman  whispered  to  me,  ' '  Wasted. ' '  The  Gen 
eral  was  out  on  the  estate  somewhere,  but  soon  came 
in.  Arabella  ran  to  him  and  tip-toeing,  put  her  arms 
about  his  neck;  and  as  it  seemed  to  be  my  time  to 
whisper  I  inquired  of  Mahone  if  that  were  wasted. 
"Begorry,  I  am  not  so  sure  about  that,"  he  said. 
"But  I  know  one  thing — he  can  stand  a  good  deal  of 
it." 

The  General  requested  us  to  come  out  upon  the  gal 
lery,  where  it  was  cooler,  and  then  he  sent  for  his  pipe. 
I  had  noticed  that  always  immediately  after  lighting 
it  some  philosophical  iitterance  followed,  and  I  often 
caught  myself  speculating  as  to  what  it  might  be,  pol 
itics,  trade  or  religion.  "I  was  talking  to  Preacher 
Ball  today,"  he  began,  "and  was  informed  by  him 
that  the  world  attained  its  highest  civilization  away 
back  in  the  days  of  Babylon,  and  that  it  could  never 
again  reach  that  point.  'Then,'  said  I,  'ever  since 
Babylon,  God  has  been  a  failure.'  '  Mrs.  Jackson 
looked  up  in  surprise.  "I  mean  no  irreverence,  my 
dear.  I  simply  said  it  to  stump  that  old  fogy.  Ha, 
ladies  and  gentlemen,  the  fact  is  that  civilization  has 
not  as  yet  much  more  than  sprouted. ' ' 

"But  do  you  think  the  world  is  as  good  as  it  used 


158  "By  the  Eternal." 

to  be?"  Arabella  inquired,  not  that  she  had  ever 
thought  on  the  subject  and  surely  not  that  she  cared, 
but  simply  to  ask  a  question. 

"It  is  many  fold  better,  madam,"  he  answered. 

"And  with  wars  going  on  all  the  time,  too?" 

"Madam,  the  world  advances  after  every  war. 
The  days  of  bigotry  and  intolerance  follow  long  peri 
ods  of  peace.  War  is  the  thunder  storm — the  light 
ning  that  clears  the  atmosphere.  It  stimulates  patriot 
ism,  the  noblest  quality  in  man — for  when  one  man 
arises  that  is  willing  to  die  for  his  country,  there  fol 
low  ten  men  worthy  to  live  for  it.  But  understand 
me :  war  should  never  be  waged  except  in  the  interest 
of  human  freedom — of  body  and  mind.  The  coward 
does  not  deserve  to  be  free  or  to  think.  I  have  heard 
of  timid  men  that  were  highly  honorable,  but  I  don 't 
think  I  ever  had  dealings  with  one." 

"But  don't  you  think,"  said  Harvey,  "that  com 
merce  has  had  a  great  deal  to  do  with  the  advance 
ment  of  the  world?" 

"Undoubtedly,  sir,  for  trade  has  followed  war." 

The  dinner  bell  rang.  At  the  Hermitage  there  was 
always  enough  for  company.  The  house  was  open. 
At  meal  time  any  man  was  privileged  to  come  in  off 
the  road  and  to  take  a  seat  at  the  table.  If  the  guest 
were  a  man,  and  if  he  bore  the  appearance  of  being  a 
"person  of  affairs,"  his  name  might  be  asked,  as  a 
compliment  to  him. 

This  was  the  first  time  that  I  had  entered  the  din 
ing-room.  It  was  large  and  plain,  a  room  designed  for 
comfort,  for  air;  and  I  observed  that  there  had  been 
no  disposition  to  over-furnish  it — an  ostentation  which 
even  at  this  early  day  had  begun  to  be  apparent  in 
the  neighborhood. 

The  talk  now  became  chatty..   I  sat  to  the  left  of 


She  Begged  Him  to  Let  Her  Stay.          159 

Arabella,  with  the  elf  and  her  cousin  opposite.  Ma- 
hone  was  between  his  "former  Fate"  and  her  hus 
band.  She  gave  me  that  old  look  and  cooed:  "I 
came  out  purposely  to  see  you — I  couldn't  wait  any 
longer. ' ' 

Confound  her,  could  she  never  be  honest  ?  Mahone 
was  talking  to  Harvey.  He  did  not  know  that  she 
was  "syruping"  me.  "I  was  so  glad  when  I  heard 
that  you  had  escaped  death  at  the  hands  of  that  awful 
man,"  she  said.  "He  was  my  cousin — in  a  way,  but 
I  was  afraid  of  him.  He  would  have  ruined  me  if 
he  had  lived — would  have  wrung  money — my  home 
out  of  me.  And — and —  '  now  she  whispered — "he 
swore  that  if  I  married  Mr.  Mahone  he  would  shoot 
him  down  like  a  dog." 

"Is  that  the  reason  you  didn't  marry  him?"  I 
asked,  low  of  tone  for  the  Irishman  and  the  merchant 
had  ceased  to  talk. 

' '  Oh,  I  won 't  say  that — ought  not  to  say  it ;  but  he 
would  have  shot  the  Professor.  Tell  me,  did  he  take 
it  hard?  Oh,  I  hope  not,  but  did  he?" 

Mahone  and  Harvey  were  talking.  The  General 
was  telling  Page  about  some  of  the  numerous  surgeons 
that  chance  had  summoned  to  him.  Arabella  cooed  in 
my  ear,  "Oh,  I  hope  not." 

"You  trod  upon  a  noble  heart,"  I  said. 

"Yes,  I  am  afraid  so.  But  Mr.  Harvey — do  you 
know  that — 

"Do  I  know  what?" 

"That  he  was  so  persuasive,  and  at  the  time  when 
Cousin  Calvin  threatened  so  terribly.  I  just  didn't 
know  which  wray  to  turn. ' ' 

"It  seems  that  you  did." 

"Well,  I  happened  to  turn  the  right  way,  for  Mr. 


160  "By  the  Eternal" 

Harvey  is  so  kind  and  thoughtful.  Of  course  he's  not 
romantic,  but — 

"But  he's  got  the  goods,"  Mahone  exclaimed.  "I 
mean,  General,  that  old  law  proof  fellow." 

I  knew  that  this  was  a  ready  turn-off  of  his  loud 
blurt;  and  the  General  accepted  it  as  genuine,  but 
Arabella  comprehended,  as  he  had  intended  that  she 
should. 

I  looked  across  the  table.  Nettie  was  gazing  at  me, 
and  her  eyes  seemed  to  have  brought  away  pictures  of 
the  lights  and  the  shades  we  had  looked  upon  in  the 
woods.  Page  was  talking  to  her.  He  was  good 
humored.  Evidently  he  had  not  heard  of  our  truant 
drive. 

"And  so  you  don't  like  school,"  said  Arabella. 

"Hate  it,"  Nettie  answered.  "But  after  this  I  am 
going  to  study  hard.  I  promised  somebody,  and  I 
will." 

"Ah,  and  have  you  at  last  promised  me?"  Page 
spoke  up.  "Well,  now,  see  that  you  don't  let  that 
promise  slip  out  of  your  mind." 

She  looked  at  me,  a  mischievous  smile  playing  about 
her  mouth,  hiding  in  the  corners,  coming  out  again; 
and  I  knew  that  Page,  in  the  conceit  of  his  authority 
had  deceived  himself. 

Arabella  inquired  of  Mrs.  Jackson  if  there  were 
much  sickness  in  the  neighborhood.  She  knew  how  to 
touch  about  to  find  the  live  nerve  of  interest.  Mrs. 
Jackson  answered  that  there  was  considerable  shaking 
with  chills  up  and  down  the  river,  with  only  here  and 
there  a  case  of  fever  that  might  not  recover.  Not  a 
great  ways  off  a  number  of  very  poor  people  had  just 
moved  in  from  North  Carolina,  having  been  told  that 
all  they  had  to  do  to  attain  riches  was  merely  to  reach 
Tennessee.  During  all  the  day  before  she  had  kept 


She  Begged  Him  to  Let  Her  Stay.          161 

two  negroes  and  a  wagon  busy  hauling  provisions  to 
them.  She  was  greatly  distressed  concerning  them. 
But  the  Lord  surely  would  provide. 

The  General  bowed  to  her.  This  was  his  method  of 
communicating  to  her  the  fact  that  he  was  about  to 
say  something.  "Mrs.  Jackson,"  said  he,  "the  Lord 
will  provide  every  time  you  discover  that  any  one  is 
in  need." 

"Hear,  hear,"  cried  Harvey.  It  seems  that  before 
beginning  business  he  had  visited  London,  to  study 
the  methods  of  trade  in  that  city,  and  that  while  there, 
had  looked  in  upon  a  debating  society  known  as  the 
"Free  Parliament." 

Arabella  began  again  to  coo  into  my  ear.  "That 
young  man  just  across  from  us  is  so  interesting,  don't 
you  think?" 

"I  do  not,"  I  answered. 

"Why,  how  can  you  say  so?" 

Confound  her,  she  had  discovered  a  new  nerve  and 
was  picking  at  it.  "He  is  to  be  a  doctor,  too,"  she 
went  on.  "And  that  witch  in  the  sunrise  is  his 
cousin."  There  was  a  lull  in  the  general  talk  about 
the  board,  and  she  hushed,  but  when  the  chatter  was 
resumed,  she  continued:  "She  is  mortgaged  to  him 
by  some  family  shortsightedness,  of  course.  I  can  see 
it  in  the  authority  by  which  he  thinks  he  holds  her. 
But  she  will  walk  the  plank  they  have  thrown  out  for 
her.  Isn't  it  sad  that  a  woman  is  always  so  ready  to 
sacrifice  herself?" 

"And  others,"  shouted  Mahone — "old  Bill  Others, 
General.  I  don 't  suppose  you  ever  heard  of  him,  but 
he  talked  loud  against  your  appointment  as  major- 
general  of  militia,  in  the  tavern  one  night,  and  I  led 
him  out  by  the  nose." 

"And  you  acted  rightly,  sir,"  the  General  did  not 


162  "By  the  Eternal." 

hesitate  to  declare.  Convinced  of  his  own  fitness  for 
any  position  whatsoever,  it  was,  in  his  opinion,  out 
rageous  to  oppose  him.  To  be  his  friend  was  to  be 
right.  To  share  his  political  views  was  to  partake  of 
the  wisdom  of  statesmanship.  Never  to  be  wrong  is 
narrow,  of  course ;  but  always  to  be  right  is  strength, 
even  though  it  be  error.  I  am  convinced  that  Jack 
son  believed  himself  appointed  by  the  Almighty  to 
achieve  certain  purposes.  With  no  religious  bigotry, 
except  as  to  unswerving  faith  in  his  own  divine  ap 
pointment — more  impetuous,  with  more  of  the  easily 
observed  frailties  of  human  nature,  he  was  a  Crom 
well  in  the  backwoods.  The  Lord  had  repented  that 
He  made  Adam,  but  not  that  He  made  Andrew. 

After  dinner,  the  General  withdrew  to  his  room  for 
a  nap,  and  his  wife,  as  was  her  usual  custom,  excused 
herself  that  she  might  sit  near  him  until  he  should 
fall  asleep,  reading  to  him  the  heroic  measures  of  the 
Bible,  the  one  hundred  and  ninth-  psalm,  wherein 
David  curses  his  enemies. 

The  rest  of  us,  with  the  exception  of  Nettie  sat  be 
neath  the  trees  in  the  yard.  The  girl,  hoping  to  es 
cape  notice,  hid  about  in  the  shrubbery ;  but  Page  de 
tected  her.  She  was  not  far  from  me  and  I  heard 
him  say  to  her,  "No,  you  must  go  to  school." 

"Let  me  stay  just  a  little  while.  These  visitors  will 
think  it  strange  if  I  run  away  and  leave  them." 

' '  No  they  won 't.    Remember,  you  promised  me. ' ' 

"I  didn't  promise  you  anything," 

"What,  have  you  forgotten  already?  There,  now, 
run  along,  and  when  you  come  back  we  '11  hitch  up  old 
Tom  for  a  drive  over  into  the  woods." 

"I  don't  like  to  drive — I  hate  the  woods.  I  just 
want  to  sit  down  and  rest." 

"Well,  then,"  he  persisted,  "run  along  and  when 


She  Begged  Him  to  Let  Her  Stay.          166 

you  come  home  from  school  you  and  I  will  sit  down 
together,  and  you  may  rest  while  I  talk  to  you." 

"But  Cousin  Wilbur,  you  don't  seem  to  understand 
that  when  I  put  it  off  so  long  rest  don't  do  me  any 
good.  What  is  the  use  of  being  a  doctor  if  you  don't 
know  any  more  about  people  than  that?" 

He  would  not  yield.  We  do  not  have  to  go  very  far 
back  into  the  past  to  discover  how  complete  was  man's 
mastership  over  woman — how  complete  he  thought  it 
was,  when  in  him  was  vested  a  little  authority.  ' '  You 
must  go,"  he  said.  "It  is  your  duty — to  me." 

Without  another  word  she  went,  walking  briskly, 
nor  did  she  look  back  at  us  as  we  sat  beneath  the  trees. 
About  this  time  Harvey,  half  asleep,  nodded  out  some 
word  about  business,  and  then  it  was  that  the  Irish 
man  chanced  to  remember  that  he  had  left  the  store 
open  with  no  one  to  look  after  it. 

"Oh,  must  you  really  go?"  said  Arabella,  and  I 
could  have  pulled  her  ears,  for  in  her  tone  and  her 
eyes  there  was  a  strong  appeal  against  his  going.  He 
had  jumped  out  of  his  chair,  but  now  he  halted. 

"I  ought  to,"  he  mumbled  feebly. 

"-Yes,  you  ought,"  spoke  up  the  doctor,  man  of 
duty. 

"For  your  quick  readiness  to  decide,"  replied  the 
Irishman,  bowing  to  him,  "I  thank  you  most — most 
heartily.  But,  sir,  I  hope  that  in  the  future  I  shall 
not  be  called  upon  to  answer  for  your  patients  when 
you  render  decision  after  so  little  meditation." 

Arabella  laughed  and  Harvey  awoke  to  a  mild  grin. 
But  the  young  doctor  was  neither  enlivened  by  mirth 
nor  ruffled  in  resentment.  "Oh,"  said  he,  "my  pa 
tients  will  take  care  of  themselves." 

' '  Let  us  trust  that  they  may  be  granted  that  privi 
lege, "  Mahone  replied.  He  bowed  himself  off;  and 


164  "By  the  Eternal." 

Arabella  turning  to  me,  asked  me  to  go  with  her  into 
the  garden  to  look  at  the  roses. 

"Now  don't  speak  of  the  heat  of  the  day,"  she  said 
to  her  husband.  ' '  You  know  I  don 't  mind  heat.  Come 
on,  Eichard.  It  is  only  a  few  steps  and  I  will  help 
you  to  walk." 

' '  I  am  not  his  physician,  but  if  I  were  I  should  for 
bid  his  going,"  said  the  doctor. 

"Of  course  you  would,"  she  replied.  "Come  on, 
Richard." 

She  took  my  arm  and  slowly  led  me  into  the  garden. 
' '  I  just  wanted  to  talk  to  you, ' '  she  said.  ' '  You  knew 
that,  didn't  you?" 

I  knew  it  well  enough.  ' '  Let  us  go  into  the  summer- 
house  and  sit  down,  Richard."  And  when  we  had 
seated  ourselves  beneath  the  lattice  work  and  the 
clambering  vines  she  said:  "It  is  so  delightful  to  be 
here — alone. ' ' 

"Mrs.  Harvey,"  I  began,  but  she  stopped  me  with 
an  "  oh. "  Then,  as  I  looked  at  her,  into  her  eyes,  she 
said:  "But  of  course  I  shouldn't  expect  you  to  call 
me  Arabella — now.  What  were  you  going  to  say  ? ' ' 

' '  I  was  going  to  ask  you  when  you  intended  to  stop 
flirting." 

"What— I— flirting?  You  astonish  me.  Can't  I 
be  friendly — and  with  you?" 

"Yes,  and  it  is  not  very  dangerous — " 

"For  the  reason  that  the  child- witch  has  put  a  real 
spell  upon  you,"  she  broke  in,  laughing.  "But  then, 
why  should  you  reprove  me,  or  rather  censure  your 
self  through  me?" 

"I  was  not  thinking  of  myself,  but  of  Mahone. 
Why  do  you  make  eyes  at  him  ? ' ' 

"Do  I?  Honestly  now,  I  didn't  intend  to.  Rich 
ard,  if  I  were  to  say  something  would  you  think  me 


She  Begged  Him  to  Let  Her  Stay.          165 

the  most  contemptible  woman  in  the  world?  Yes, 
you  would,  and  therefore  I  won't  say  it." 

' '  Which  means  that  I  must  urge  you. ' ' 

"No,  it  doesn't." 

"You  can't  be  honest." 

"Not  in  your  opinion  when  you  are  determined  to 
set  yourself  against  me." 

"I  admit  your  conquest.  Say  what  was  in  your 
mind. ' ' 

"It  was  about  love." 

"That's  a  fair  start." 

"About  the  only  man  I  ever  loved." 

"Married  twice  and — you  are  not  going  to  confess 
that  you  love  your  husband,  or  that  you  loved  the  one 
whose  ancestors  flew  the  hawks." 

"No,  to  my  shame." 

"You  mean  to  the  interest  of  your  confession.  His 
name  ? ' ' 

"Mahone, "  she  answered.  "It  is  true,  and  I  con 
fess  myself  a — a  weak  fool,  but  I  am  determined  to 
tell  you  the  truth.  But  there  is  this  one  feature  of 
redemption :  I  didn  't  know  how  much  I  loved  him 
until  I  married  Mr.  Harvey." 

"I  suppose  that  is  the  usual  way  a  woman  discov 
ers  her  love  for  some  one  else." 

"Wiseacre,  what  do  you  know  about  women?  Read 
this." 

From  her  sleeve,  which  was  now  not  short,  she  took 
a  bit  of  folded  paper,  a  note. 

"Do  you  recognize  the  writing?" 

"Yes.  I  once  received  a  communication  traced  by 
the  same  pen.  Lismukes. " 

"Yes,  read  it." 

It  ran:  "Listen  to  me.  If  you  marry  that  Irish 
man  I  will  shoot  him  down  like  a  dog.  You  refused 


166  "By  the  Eternal" 

to  marry  me,  and  my  right  to  kill  him  lies  in  the  privi-' 
lege  of  the  rejected  lover,  not  recognized  by  the  law, 
but  by  one 's  own  conscience.  But  why  should  I  speak 
to  you  about  conscience,  something  you  have  never 
been  known  to  possess!  Of  course  it  has  not  entered 
your  head  to  marry  that  young  prig,  Staggs.  You 
can  wind  him  about  your  finger  like  a  rag,  and  his 
poverty  would  mean  nothing  but  rags.  The  Irishman 
has  no  prospects,  it  is  true,  but  I  think  you  love  him 
and  love,  as  I  have  found  out,  is  a  fool.  I  have  begged 
the  loan  of  money  from  you  and  you  have  refused. 
You  said  that  you  would  have  to  sell  your  home.  Now, 
you  marry  Harvey  and  all  will  be  well.  I'll  never 
mention  the  loan  to  you  again.  It  is  the  right  course 
•for  you  to  take,  for  marriage  is  a  business  contract. 
If  not  it  is  a  romantic  failure.  There  are  many  things 
I  am  and  a  few  things  I  am  not,  and  prominent  among 
the  things  I'm  not  is  that  I  am  not  a  liar.  Marry 
Mahone  and  you  murder  him." 

I  folded  the  paper  and  handed  it  back  to  her.  "I 
want  you  to  keep  it,"  she  said.'  "And  one  of  these 
days,  years  from  now  when  Mahone  has  forgotten  me, 
I  want.you  to  give  it  to  him.  Perhaps  it  is  asking  a 
great  deal  of  you,  to  believe  me  honest.  You  have  al 
ways  said  I  wasn't;  but  I  am  not  bad,  in  a  way  you 
think  I  am.  And  I  acknowledge  that  is  wasn't  Cousin 
Calvin's  threat  that  wholly  influenced  my  action, 
though  it  had  much  weight.  I  was  fool  enough  to 
believe  that  by  a  marriage  with  prosperity  I  could  ad 
just  myself  to  happiness;  but  it  was  impossible.  We 
do  not  quarrel,  but  I  am  the  most  wretched  woman 
alive.  He  is  far  from  stupid,  but  I  have  a  contempt 
for  his  petty  soul.  You  are  the  only  one  to  whom  I 
would  confide  this,  and  you  must  keep  it  until  you 


She  Begged  Him  to  Let  Her  Stay.          167 

think  the  time  has  come,  and  then — you  may  tell  him. 
Will  you  do  this,  for  me  ? " 

She  had  spoken  with  more  than  frankness,  not  alone 
with  her  lips  but  with  her  manner,  her  eyes.  No  mat 
ter  what  she  might  have  said  or  what  proof  she  might 
have  been  able  to  offer  I  should  still  have  been  sus 
picious  of  her,  and  yet  I  could  not  but  believe  that 
there  was  much  of  truth  in  her  "confession."  Into 
my  pocket  I  put  the  note,  before  uttering  a  word  in 
answer  to  her  appeal,  and  she  sat  looking  at  me,  with 
what  I  could  not  help  regarding  as  a  half  treacherous 
sadness  in  her  eyes. 

' '  I  will  keep  the  note  and  some  day  I  will  give  it  to 
him,"  I  said.  "But  if  I  wait  until  he  has  forgotten 
you,  his  hand  will  never  touch  it.  He  is  full  of  fan: 
cies  and  is  unconsciously  humorous.  Such  qualities 
may  drive  away  many  a  care,  but  from  his  heart  they 
cannot  banish  you." 

"Gracious  me,  when  do  you  study  up  all  those  set 
speeches?  But  do  you  think  so,  really?  Oh,  I  hope  he 
won't,  and  yet  I  ought  to  wish  for  his  sake  that  he 
will  cease  to  think  of  me.  Now  do  you  think  I  'm  con 
temptible?" 

"No.    Was  ever  a  handsome  woman  contemptible1?" 

"To  hear  you  say  that  more  than  atones  for  all 
the  humiliation  of  my  confession. ' ' 

"It  was  not  a  humiliation  but  a  pleasure,"  I  re 
plied. 

Upon  returning  to  the  yard  we  found  Page  and 
Harvey  warm  in  a  discussion  over  free  trade,  the  mer 
chant  swearing  that  there  ought  to  be  no  custom 
houses  while  the  doctor  swore  that  it  was  the  tariff 
that  developed  the  genius  of  home  production. 

"My  dear,"  said  Arabella,  speaking  to  her  hus 
band,  "I  am  ready  to  go  as  soon  as  you  are,"  but  I 


168  "By  the  Eternal." 

noticed  that  she  gazed  wistfully  up  the  road,  toward 
the  store  where  the  Irishman  must  have  been  agon 
izing  in  loneliness. 

"I  am  ready  now,"  Harvey  answered,  always  will 
ing  to  return  to  his  counter. 

A  negro  was  ordered  to  harness  their  horse;  and 
when  it  was  announced  that  the  vehicle  was  ready,  I 
walked  with  Arabella  out  to  the  gate.  ' '  Coming  here 
has  done  me  a  great  deal  of  good, ' '  she  said.  ' '  I  don 't 
feel  that  I'm  half  the  criminal  I  was.  I  wonder  if 
he'll  come  to  tell  me  good-bye  when  he  sees  I'm  go 
ing."  We  were  now  at  the  gate,  and  she  stood,  gaz 
ing  up  the  road,  her  hand  upon  my  arm. 

"Are  you  making  your  hand  tremble?"  I  asked  in 
a  low  tone,  and  she  whispered:  "Richard,  can't  you 
have  just  a  little  faith  in  me  ?  I  am  not  all  shallow- 
ness  and  deceit.  He  is  not  coming,"  she  added,  still 
gazing  up  the  road,  while  her  husband  stood  apart 
from  us,  to  clinch  a  final  point  with  Page.  "He  has 
forgotten  me  already.'  No,  he  is  coming." 

As  Mahone  came,  pretending  to  be  interested  in 
something  far  down  the  road,  she  stood,  silent,  with 
her  hand  trembling  on  my  arm.  I  had  never  seen  an 
actress  of  any  great  power,  but  at  this  moment  I  felt 
that  she  was  one. 

"So  glad  you  didn't  let  me — us  go  without  saying 
good-bye,  Professor,"  she  said;  and  the  Irishman  an 
swered:  "Madam,  I  couldn't  see  you  take  your  de 
parture  unnoticed  by  me." 

"Oh,  delightful.  My  dear —  '  this  was  aimed  at 
Harvey,  but  it  pierced  Mahone  like  a  dart — "how  can 
you  so  completely  ignore  me?  Professor,  will  you 
please  assist  me  into  the  buggy  ? ' ' 

They  drove  off,  the  doctor  popping  at  the  merchant 
the  final  lash  of  his  argument.  Then  Page  remarked 


She  Begged  Him  to  Let  Her  Stay.          169 

to  us:  "Devilish  handsome  woman;  and  I  don't  think 
it  was  his  argument  that  caught  her — must  have  been 
his  calico." 

"You  do  her  wrong,"  Mahonc  answered.  "She 
could  never  have  been  caught  with  calico.  It  was 
with  silk,  sir — fifteen  bolts  fresh  from  France  by  way 
of  Stephen  Girard,  Philadelphia." 

"Thank  you  for  your  information.  By  the  way, 
how  far  is  it  to  the  school-house?  I  believe  I'll  go 
over  and  walk  home  with  Nettie." 

"If  it  is  not  too  far  for  her  I  should  think  you 
could  stand  the  walk,"  Mahone  answered. 

"I  have  thanked  you  for  your  information,  and 
now  I  am  indebted  to  you  for  your  logic,"  said  the 
doctor.  "But  let  me  add  that  no  matter  what  the 
distance  may  be,  the  young  lady  has  demanded  the 
privilege  of  walking.  She  could  ride  if  she  wanted 
to." 

He  strode  away.  Mahone  said  to  me:  "He  bows 
under  the  weight  of  his  conceit ;  but  ah,  hah,  me  ladi- 
buck,  it  will  take  more  than  silk  on  your  part  to  hold 
the  elf." 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

GREW  LIGHTER  AT   THE  WINDOW. 

FEELING  that  I  had  exerted  myself  too  much, 
I  went  to  my  room,  lay  down,  fell  asleep,  and 
when  I  awoke  it  was  dark.     I  heard  some  one 
calling  Nettie,  and  instantly  the  window  was  lighter. 
Had  she  been  standing  there,  on  the  veranda?  Going 
into  the  sitting-room,  I  found  Mrs.  Jackson  search 
ing  the  Bible  for  fighting  passages    with    which    to 
soothe  her  husband  at  bed  time. 

"I  would  not  let  them  call  you  for  supper  because 
I  thought  you  needed  sleep,"  she  said.  "The  Gen 
eral  and  Mr.  Peter  Cartwright,  the  preacher,  are  still 
at  the  table.  Just  walk  out  and  see  to  it  that  you  are 
served,  Richard.  Don't  let  their  discussion  blind  you 
to  your  own  interest." 

They  called  Peter  Cartwright  old,  but  he  was  still 
in  the  prime  of  life.  He  was  a  most  impressive  man, 
not  only  a  soldier  of  the  Lord,  as  he  termed  himself, 
but  in  many  respects  a  statesman  of  the  Lord.  With 
him,  when  religion  was  not  humility,  it  was  warfare. 
With  him  the  sublimation  of  the  spiritual  atmosphere 
of  the  Book  was  the  sling  of  David  and  the  sword 
with  which  Peter  smote  off  the  servant 's  ear.  Physic 
ally,  he  was  not  tall,  not  heavy,  but  his  appearance 
suggested  condensed  power.  When  I  was  presented 
to  him  by  the  General,  he  arose,  took  my  hand  and 
looking  with  piercing  steadiness  into  my  eye,  asked 
me  if  I  were  a  saved  man. 

"I  hope  so,  sir,"  I  answered. 
170 


Grew  Lighter  at  the  Window.  171 

"You  hope  so.  That  is  not  enough — you  must  feel. 
Have  you  ever  felt  the  outpouring  of  grace?  Speak 
up,  sir.  Don't  hang  your  head." 

"Sir,"  said  I,  "it  is  quite  possible  that  my  belief 
may  differ  from  yours  and  at  the  same  time  be  just 
as  honestly  held." 

"Satan's  inspired  quibble,"  he  exclaimed.  "He  is 
after  your  soul.  Have  you  ever  heard  me  preach?" 

"No,  sir,  I  have  never  had  that  opportunity." 

"Then  see  that  the  opportunity  is  not  lacking  in 
the  future. ' '  With  a  jesture  he  dismissed  me  and  ad 
dressed  himself  to  the  General.  Jackson  was  ready 
for  almost  anything,  but  not  for  a  religious  argu 
ment.  He  did  not  dispute,  preferring  to  let  every 
man  believe  as  he  himself  might  elect;  and  although 
he  was  a  strong  believer  in  God,  yet  concerning  form 
ulated  creeds  of  all  sorts,  he  was  skeptical.  Once  in  a 
while  as  we  sat  in  the  dining-room,  he  would  ask  old 
Peter  a  question,  mainly,  I  thought,  to  keep  from  an 
swering  one. 

As  soon  as  I  could  escape,  I  did  so — went  out  upon 
the  veranda,  and  there  I  sat,  looking  across  to  the  dis 
tant  hill  where  the  sickle  moon  was  hanging.  Sud 
denly  there  came  a  footstep,  light  and  thrilling,  and 
I  knew  that  Nettie  was  near.  I  arose  to  give  her  my 
chair. 

"No,"  she  said,  "I  haven't  time  to  sit  down.  I 
am  in  my  room,  studying  my  lessons.  Have  you  heard 
what  they  are  going  to  do  with  me?  I'll  tell  you. 
They  gave  me  my  choice,  to  go  to  Aunt  'Riah's  and 
attend  school  from  there,  or  to  go  to  the  boarding- 
school  in  Nashville.  And  I  am  not  going  to  Aunt 
'Riah's.  It  is  always  so  pleasant  not  to  go  there. 
From  Nashville  I  can  come  out  here  every  Saturday 
night,  and  then  you  can  help  me  with  my  studies,  if 


172  "By  the  Eternal." 

it's  not  too  much  trouble.  Cousin  Wilbur  hasn't 
found  out  that  we  drove  over  into  the  woods.  I 
thought  it  was  my  duty  to  tell  him. ' ' 

''But  you  didn't,  did  you?" 

"No,  but  I  may  after  a  while.  Duties  keep  a  long 
time,  you  know.  As  Cousin  Wilbur  was  coming  along 
from  school  with  me,  he  gave  me  a  lecture.  He  said 
I  was  almost  a  grown  woman  and  ought  to  be  more 
careful  how  I  talk.  It  was  all  true,  but  I  knew  it  be 
fore  he  said  it.  Isn't  it  strange  how  much  people  tell 
us  that  we  already  know?  I  told  him  that  the  time 
for  seriousness  would  come  soon  enough.  He  said  it 
was  already  here — said  his  mother  was  married  at 
sixteen;  and  then  I  answered,  'oh,  that  was  serious, 
wasn  't  it  ? '  And  he  didn  't  seem  to  like  it  very  much. 
Well,  I  must  go  now  and  make  like  I'm  studying 
whether  I  am  or  not.  But  I  am  going  to  study,  Rich 
ard;  I'm  going  to  get  me  some  big  words,  and  use 
them  as  soon  as  I  put  on  a  longer  dress.  Did  I  say 
good-night  before?  If  I  didn't  I  say  it  now." 

The  General  and  Cartwright  sat  long  at  their  dis 
cussion,  and  when  the  preacher  had  taken  his  leave, 
which  he  did  after  many  "final"  words,  I  heard  Mrs. 
Jackson  giving  her  husband  his  "night  cap,"  a  pass 
age  from  Scripture,  dealing  with  the  sacking  of  Jeri 
cho. 

About  the  time  I  was  preparing  for  bed,  Mahone 
came  to  my  room.  "Richard,"  he  said,  sitting  down 
with  a  sigh,  "I  have  been  wondering  whether  or  not 
it  would  be  proper  for  me  to  send  a  copy  of  Tom 
Moore,  modestly  inscribed,  to  Arabella." 

"I  should  think  it  would  largely  depend  upon  the 
inscription,"  I  answered. 

"Socratic  wisdom,"  he  murmured.     "You  know 


Grew  Lighter  at  the  Window.  173 

I  had  thought  of  that  myself,  and  I  ruined  three 
copies,  getting  at  the  proper  dedication." 

"Why  didn't  you  write  it  first  on  a  separate  sheet 
of  paper  and  then  transcribe  it  to  the  book  ? ' ' 

"Begorry,  Richard,  that's  where  my  own  wisdom 
failed  me.  I  didn't  think  of  it.  But  wisdom  must 
fail  somewhere,  you  know.  If  it  didn't  it  would  en 
croach  upon  Divine  preserves.  But  I  can  stimulate 
trade  by  selling  the  damaged  copies  at  half  price. 
Richard,  she  gave  me  a  look  that  started  new  blood  to 
circulating.  And  I  have  thought  that  even  if  she  did 
marry  him  she  must  have  had  cause. ' ' 

' '  It  would  seem  so. ' ' 

"A  very  profound  observation,  Richard.  But  of 
course  I  have  kept  all  suggestion  of  that  look  out  of 
the  inscription,  otherwise  it  would  not  be  fair  to  the 
husband.  Here  is  what  I  have  written."  He  took  a 
package  from  beneath  his  arm,  where  he  had  held  it 
skillfully  concealed,  unwrapped  it,  took  out  a  book, 
cleared  his  throat  and  read:  "To  Arabella  Harvey, 
with  the  most  Platonic  regard,  and  with  memories  of 
eyes  and  lips  that  can  never  perish  from  the  mind  of 
one  who  is  silent. ' ' 

"Is  that  plain  enough  now?"  he  asked.  "Does  it 
set  forth  the  purposes  of  its  own  intention?  What 
are  you  smiling  at?" 

I  explained,  as  guardedly  as  I  could,  that  it  would 
hardly  be  looked  upon  as  appropriate.  "Then  you 
may  write  it  yourself,  sir,"  he  said,  as  if  I  had  en 
gaged  him  to  perform  the  delicate  task. 

"Don't  misunderstand  me,  Dan,"  I  replied.  "It 
would  be  wholly  appropriate  for  her  and  I  know  she 
would  like  it,  but  you  know  we  must  consider  Harvey, 
too.  He  might  look  upon  it  as  too  strong  a  draft  on — 
well,  on  the  near  past." 


174  "By  the  Eternal." 

"You  are  right,  Richard.  He  is  entitled  to  some 
consideration,  under  the  law,  and  we  will  give  it  to 
him.  I  will  be  elegant  by  being  more  than  simple. 
How  would  this  do :  'For  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Harvey,  with 
compliments  to  the  latter?'  ' 

"That's  just  a  little  awkward,  isn't  it?" 

"It  is  if  you  think  so,  and  it  seems  that  you  are 
determined  in  that  direction.  Ah,  I  have  it,"  he 
cried,  his  countenance  brightening.  "I  will  sleep  over 
it,  and  to-morrow  morning  I  may  decide  not  to  send 
the  book  at  all.  That  will  be  the  best  plan,  and  I 
wonder  that  I  didn't  think  of  it  before.  Tell  me,  in 
her  talk  with  you  did  she  touch  upon  the  somewhat 
delicate  subject  of  your  killing  her  relative?  But 
perhaps  he  was  not  near  enough  kin  to  render  the 
subject  delicate.  But  did  she  mention  it?" 

' '  Yes,  but  not  reproachfully. ' ' 

"A  generous  woman,  Richard;  yes,  sir,  notwith 
standing  her  selfishness.  By  the  way,  the  young  doc 
tor  was  over  at  the  store  just  before  supper  time,  and 
he  was  most  glib  about  his  prospects.  After  his  mar 
riage  he  is  going  to  settle  down  over  in  the  town  of 
Gallatin,  not  far  from  here.  Somehow  he  had  heard 
of  my  affair  with  the  widow — that  was — and  he  said 
I  didn't  know  how  to  manage  her.  I  told  him,  be- 
gorry,  that  he  was  right.  He  said  that  man  inherited 
authority  over  woman,  and  that  when  he  showed  the 
least  sign  of  mismanagement,  she  began  to  slip  away 
from  him.  In  dealing  with  a  woman  a  man  must 
never  permit  his  love  to  weaken  him  into  a  lack  of 
firmness.  She  might  for  a  while  pout  at  his  decisions, 
but  soon  she  would  come  to  respect  them;  that  an 
ounce  of  genuine  respect  was  better  than  a  pound  of 
emotional  love.  He  called  my  attention  to  the  excel 
lent  training  he  was  giving  the  elf.  I  had  my  sleeves 


Grew  Lighter  at  the  Window.  175 

rolled  up  at  the  time,  having  been  lifting  some  boxes, 
but  I  rolled  down  one  of  them  and  laughed  into  it.  If 
she  doesn't  love  him  now,  Richard,  she  never  can,  but 
here  arises  that  same  trouble  that  comes  upon  so  many 
women — she  will  think  she  must  of  necessity  love  him 
after  marriage.  And  the  trouble  with  the  elf  is  that 
at  heart  she  is — I  might  say — oppressed  with  a  sense 
of  duty.  I  don't  say  this,  though,  to  discourage  you, 
for  the  Lord  knows  you  don't  need  any  discourage 
ment.  And  if  she  should  pull  away  from  what  she  re 
gards  as  her  duty  to  him,  then  the  trouble  will  begin 
sure  enough.  He  thinks  he  needs  her  and  he  won't 
give  her  up.  Then  I  hinted  in  the  most  skillful  way. 

"  'But  suppose,'  said  I,  'that  some  fellow  wins  her 
love,  what  then  ? ' 

"  'You  are  supposing  that  she  is  to  be  created 
anew,'  he  answered.  And  when  I  said  I  was  not  so 
sure  about  that,  he  replied:  'When  a  man  knows 
what  it  means,  he  will  not  be  so  likely  to  attempt  to 
win  her  love.  She  was  born  for  me,  was  given  to  me 
by  her  mother,  and  I  will  see  to  it  that  there  shall  be 
no  transfer.' 

"  'Of  property,'  I  delicately  suggested,  and  he 
said, 

"  'Well,  yes,  if  you  desire  to  put  it  that  way.'  ' 

' '  But  Dan,  do  you  consider  the  fact  that  I  shall  not 
try  to  take  her  away  from  him?" 

"You've  done  so  already,  without  consideration — 
and  that  is  why  I  see  trouble  coming,  but  I  won't  op 
press  you  with  it,  although  it  will  be  the  sweetest 
trouble  a  man  ever  engaged  in.  Good-night.  I  can 
not  leave  you  in  pleasanter  company  than  with  your 
self." 


CHAPTER  XX. 

I  AM  DENOUNCED. 

AFTER  sleeping  over  his  "idea"  Mahone  sent  to 
Arabella  a  copy  of  Moore,  inscribed,  "With 
the  compliments  of  an  unknown  friend."  The 
negro  who  bore  this  precious  gift  was  instructed  that 
under  no  circumstances  was  he  to  let  it  be  known 
that  he  had  been  sent  from  the  Hermitage,  and  that 
if  she  seemed  to  suspect  it  he  must  declare  himself  a 
"free  negro,  acting  without  authority."  The  darky 
had  just  passed  from  sight  when  the  Irishman  began 
to  speculate  as  to  the  contents  of  the  note  Arabella 
might  send  back  by  him;  and  when  in  the  afternoon 
he  returned  with  no  message,  Mahone  said  to  him: 
"It's  the  last  time  I'll  ever  send  you  anywhere. 
Mind  that,  now." 

He  waited  all  day  for  a  special  messenger  from 
town — waited  during  three  days,  and  then  he  charged 
Arabella  with  ingratitude.  "I  have  taken  no  snap 
judgment  in  this  matter,"  he  remarked  to  me,  sitting 
in  my  room.  "I  have  given  her  plenty  of  time  and 
ample  opportunity  to  redeem  herself,  and  she  stub 
bornly  refuses.  Now,  sir,  I  shall  permit  her  to  take 
her  own  course." 

I  was  now  well  enough  to  enjoy  thoroughly  the 
humor  of  his  distress  and  I  did  not  care  to  reason 
with  him.  But  when  with  repetitions  he  had  ceased 
to  be  amusing,  I  said:  "Dan,  perhaps  she  hasn't 
been  able  to  guess  who  sent  the  book.  Does  she  know 
your  handwriting?" 

176 


I  Am  Denounced.  177 

' '  Begorry,  she 's  had  time  enough  now  to  become  ac 
quainted  with  it.  I  sent  her  the  book  three  days 
ago." 

"But  did  she  ever  see  any  of  your  writing  be 
fore?" 

"Well,  in  sentiment  if  not  in  form.  I  am  the  au 
thor  of  an  epitaph  cut  on  a  tomb-stone  in  the  grave 
yard,  and  it  was  myself  that  had  the  pleasure  to 
stand  near  by  one  Sunday  afternoon  and  hear  her 
read  it.  The  lines  were  descriptive  of  the  virtues  of 
one  Dennis  Gorman,  the  same  that  imported  the  first 
Irish  whisky  into  the  town,  and  who  lost  his  life  while 
patrioticalhr  trying  to  roll  out  a  barrel  of  it  when  his 
place  of  business  was  burning  down.  I  made  bold  to 
take  oil'  my  hat  and  to  tell  her  that  I  was  the  author 
of  the  sentiments  chiseled  in  the  stone,  and  the  smile 
of  her  approval  compensated  me  for  the  fact  that 
poor  Dennis  was  no  more.  Richard,  I  have  a  piece 
of  news  for  you.  Just  before  I  came  into  the  room 
I  heard  the  young  doctor  say  to  Mrs.  Jackson  that  he 
intends  to  take  his  departure  early  to-morrow  morn 
ing,  the  same  time  that  the  elf  drives  in  to  her  new 
school.  What  do  you  say  to  that,  now?" 

"Well,  it  ought  not  to  concern  me  very  much  but 
I'm  glad  he  is  going." 

"Spoken  with  absolute  sincerity.  By  the  way, 
Cartwright  preaches  to-night  in  a  church  about  half 
way  between  here  and  town.  I  heard  the  young  doc 
tor  say  he  was  going  to  take  the  elf.  Wouldn't  you 
like  to  go  along  with  me  ?  But  why  do  I  ask  ?  I  know 
you  would.  And  Richard,  we  '11  start  early  enough  so 
we  can  drive  into  town  and  out  again — we'll  drive 
around  by  Arabella's  house  and  note  the  many  changes 
that  have  taken  place  since  the  notable  events  hap- 


178  "By  the  Eternal." 

pened.  You  haven't  been  back  there  and  neither 
have  I,  and  it 's  been  long  enough  now  so  that  a  storm 
won't  be  raised  over  our  appearance.  Arrah,  that 
was  an  inspiration." 

When  the  time  came  to  go,  and  it  came  early,  Ma- 
hone  closed  the  store,  remarking  that  as  business  had 
been  rather  active  of  late,  the  place  as  well  as  himself 
was  in  need  of  rest. 

The  town  was  busy,  and  as  we  drove  through  the 
streets,  no  one  seemed  to  take  note  of  me.  My  "little 
affair"  had  blown  over.  We  did  not  go  near  Har 
vey's  store,  Mahone  declaring  that  he  did  not  wish 
to  look  upon  anything  that  might  remind  him  of  busi 
ness,  but  drove  around  by  our  old  home.  We  did 
not  hear  Arabella  singing,  but  as  we  drew  near  we 
saw  her  sitting  on  the  veranda,  reading  a  book.  Ap 
pearances  did  not  demand  that  we  should  give  an  ex 
cuse  for  halting,  but  the  Irishman  was  ready  with 
one. 

"Hah,  pleasant  time  of  day  to  you,  Mrs.  Harvey. 
We  have  stopped  to  deliver  two  fine  chickens  sent  by 
Mrs.  Jackson,  thoughtful  and  generous  body  that  she 
is — but  confound  that  negro,  he  has  forgotten  to  put 
them  into  the  buggy.  Mind  that,  Richard;  and  I'd 
hate  to  stand  in  his  shoes,  the  negligent  scoundrel. 
I  am  very  sorry,  Madam;  and  as  we  have  been 
thwarted  of  the  object  of  our  mission  we  might  as 
well  drive  on,  as  we  are  in  a  bit  of  a  hurry." 

"Oh,  I'm  so  sorry  you  forgot  the  chickens,"  she 
said,  holding  up  her  book  and  coquettishly  peeping  at 
us  over  the  top  of  it. 

"It  was  not  ourselves  that  forgot  them,  madam, 
but  the  negligent  negro.  We  saw  them  after  they  had 
been  caught  and  tied,  and  Richard  remarked  of  one 


I  Am  Denounced,  179 

of  them  that  he  was  as  fine  a  specimen  as  he  had  ever 
seen.  But  as  we  are  in  a  bit  of  a  hurry — 

"Won't  you  get  out  and  come  in  just  for  a  few 
moments?"  she  cut  him  off. 

' '  Oh,  well,  Madam,  since  you  have  so  kindly  insist 
ed,  we  might." 

She  brought  out  chairs  and  we  sat  down.  Mahone 
spoke  of  the  genial  warmth  of  the  day — it  was  almost 
hot  enough  to  singe  a  cat — and  then  remarked:  "It 
appears  to  be  a  beautiful  book  you  are  reading, 
Madam.  Would  you  mind  letting  me  look  at  it?" 
She  handed  it  to  him.  "Ah,  Tom  Moore,"  he  ex 
claimed  with  enthusiasm.  "Now  where  did  you 
come  across  this  precious  volume?" 

"Eead  the  inscription,"  she  said,  with  a  sly  look 
at  me. 

"Ah,  it  is  a  fine  bit  of  sentiment,"  he  declared. 
1 '  '  From  an  unknown  friend. '  Judging  from  the  hand 
writing  I  should  think  that  the  friend  is  a  lady." 
Mahone 's  quill  had  been  used  for  price-marking,  and 
the  writing  looked  as  if  it  had  been  clone  with  a  split 
shingle  nail.  "It  was  Hamlet,  Madam,  who  says  that 
the  hand  of  least  employment  hath  the  daintier 
touch.  You  may  therefore  observe  that  this  hand  is 
not  a  slave  to  writing." 

"Mr.  Harvey  thought  it  must  have  come  from  a 
man, ' '  she  said,  with  a  slight  cough. 

"Did  he,  Madam?  Surely  he  must  be  a  man  of 
great  discernment  to  hit  upon  such  a  conclusion. 
However,  on  closer  inspection  I  admit  that  it  might 
possibly  have  been  done  by  a  man.  But  we  are  in  a 
great  rush,  and  I  hope  you  will  pardon  what  might 
seem  undue  haste." 

As  wre  were  driving  away  the  Irishman  said  to  me : 


180  "By  the  Eternal." 

' '  Why  the  devil  didn  't  you  knock  me  down  ?  Couldn  't 
you  see  I  didn't  want  to  go?  Didn't  I  hobble  to  the 
gate  like  a  ham-strung  horse  ?  And  you  sat  there  and 
let  me  deny  having  sent  her  the  book.  Now  she  never 
will  write  me  a  note  telling  me  how  charmed  she  was 
to  receive  it.  But  Richard,"  and  he  gripped  my  arm. 
' '  I  '11  tell  you  what  I  can  do — and  I  will.  Do  you  hear 
me  now?  I  will  buy  a  couple  of  chickens  and  take 
them  back  to  her  with  their  feet  tied,  and  tell  her  that 
we  found  them  by  the  roadside,  where  they  had  flut 
tered  out.  What  an  inspiration  that  is,  now!" 

It  was  a  measure  so  full  of  humor  for  me  that  I 
offered  no  word  against  it.  And  so,  he  bought  two 
chickens,  pawning  his  word  for  them,  swearing  as 
we  drove  back  toward  Arabella's  house,  that  it  was 
the  saints  themselves  that  had  enabled  him  to  obtain 
credit  with  the  poulterer,  a  stranger.  Arabella  was 
on  the  veranda  with  her  book.  ' '  We  found  the  chick 
ens  not  far  from  here,  Madam,"  Mahone  cried  as  we 
drew  up  at  the  gate.  "Yes,  Madam,  a  little  boy  saw 
them  as  they  fluttered  out  of  the  buggy  and  kept  them 
for  us  and  here  they  are." 

He  came  forward,  carrying  the  squawking  hens  by 
the  feet,  and  with  a  bow  presented  them  to  her  with 
the  compliments  of  Mrs.  Jackson. 

"Oh,  I  am  so  much  indebted,"  she  replied,  taking 
the  chickens  and  then  calling  a  negress  to  convey 
them  to  the  place  of  future  execution.  "Oh,  thank 
you  so  much  for  all  your  trouble,  Mr.  Mahone.  And 
this  very  day,  I  will  write  a  note  of  thanks  to  Mrs. 
Jackson  and  send  it  by  a  special  messenger." 

Mahone 's  jaw  fell.  "Oh,  I  don't  think  she  desires 
you  to  feel  under  such  obligations,  Madam.  I'm 
quite  sure  she  does  not.  And  now  I  remember  her 


I  Am  Denounced.  181 

saying  that  she  hoped  you  wouldn't  take  the  trouble 
to  write.  She  is  one  of  the  most  charming  of  women, 
Madam,  but  she  is  peculiar  that  way.  Richard  heard 
her  when  she  said  you  really  must  not  write. ' ' 

"Oh,  it  will  be  a  pleasure  rather  than  a  trouble," 
Arabella  replied. 

"Oh,  no,  Madam.  You  may  think  so,  but  I  assure 
you,  as  a  man  of  more  experience  than  yourself  that 
it  will  not." 

"But  I  know  her  better  than  you  do,  Professor," 
Arabella  insisted.  "Once  she  sent  me  five  pounds 
of  butter  with  explicit  instructions  that  I  must  not 
write  my  acknowledgments,  and  because  I  didn't  she 
seemed  hurt  the  next  time  I  met  her." 

Mahone  was  an  easy  if  not  always  a  graceful  shifter 
of  positions.  "Perhaps  you  are  right,"  he  admitted. 
"Write,  and  confer  upon  me  the  honor  of  bearing 
the  note." 

Arabella  shook  her  head.  Was  this  woman  ac 
quainted  with  every  trick  that  man  could  devise? 
"That  would  look  too  much  like  a  business  receipt," 
she  declared. 

"Ha,  Madam,"  Mahone  cried,  "you  may  not  know 
it,  but  Mrs.  Jackson,  gentle  and  affectionate  as  she 
is,  loves  business.  She  insists  upon  writing  all  the 
General's  receipts.  And  I  think  she  would  like  your 
acknowledgments  much  better  in  the  form  of  a  re 
ceipt." 

"Well,  perhaps  I'd  better  not  write  at  all,"  she 
finally  decided,  and  Mahone  drew  a  long  breath  as  if 
he  had  just  reached  the  last  step  of  a  long  flight  of 
stairs. 

"Richard,"  Arabella  said  to  me,  "have  you  set 
out  determinedly  to  cultivate  the  habit  of  silence?  Or 


182  "Ey  the  Eternal" 

has  the  midnight-eyed  little  witch  stolen  your  tongue 
as  well  as  your  heart?" 

"Whenever  there  are  hearts  to  be  stolen  you  de 
mand  that  they  shall  be  left  for  you  to  steal,"  I  an 
swered,  with  good  humor  and  with  such  she  accepted 
it,  replying  that  when  a  woman  ceased  to  lay  modest 
claim  upon  hearts  it  soon  followed  that  she  lost  not 
only  the  esteem  of  men  but  even  the  commonplace 
regard  of  her  own  sex. 

"Begorry — begging  your  pardon  for  the  expres 
sion — "  Mahone  began,  "but  the  hearts  of  men  are 
like  wild  cattle ;  they  belong  to  those  who  catch  them 
and  brand  them.  But  sometimes  the  branding  is 
done  with  an  iron  that  has  been  heated  to  white  heat, 
and  then — then  the  devil's  to  pay — I  beg  pardon, 
Madam.  But  we  are  still  in  a  great  hurry,  Mrs.  Har 
vey,  and  must  go,  thanking  you  for  your  kindness." 

She  did  not  say  a  word  that  might  detain  him; 
she  hoped  that  he  would  come  again,  some  Sunday 
when  there  was  no  business  to  keep  her  husband  at 
the  store,  and  she  shook  hands  with  him,  her  lip 
trembling,  I  thought,  now  that  her  almost  unconquer 
able  spirit  of  mischief  had  subsided. 

Mahone  did  not  speak  until  we  had  driven  some 
distance  and  then  he  remarked:  "Are  you  a  Biblical 
scholar,  Richard?" 

"Not  to  boast  of.     Why?" 

"I  want  to  know  what  the  Book  says  about  man, 
born  of  woman." 

"Says  that  he  is  of  few  days  and  full  of  trouble." 

"But  are  you  sure  it  doesn't  say  he's  an  arrant 
fool,  a  few  days  and  full  of  trouble?  If  it  doesn't, 
it  implies  as  much.  If  I  hadn't  waved  that  branding 
iron  we  might  now  be  sitting  there  in  her  presence, 


I  Am  Denounced.  183 

receiving  grace  from  a  mere  look  of  her  eye.  But  I 
had  to  be  a  fool ;  I  had  to  proclaim  that  my  heart  had 
been  branded — burnt  to  the  core.  Then  self-respect 
insisted  that  I  should  no  longer  remain  in  her  pres 
ence.  But  do  you  think  she  knows  who  sent  her  the 
book,  Richard?" 

"Jnst  as  well  as  you  do." 

"Then  there's  something  to  be  thankful  for.  But 
wasn't  that  chicken  trick  a  shrewd  one?  In  that  de 
vice  we  have  her  completely  deceived." 

"It  was  as  plain  to  her,  Dan,  as  your  writing  in 
the  book." 

"What,  do  you  think  so  now?  Surely  not,  Rich 
ard." 

"Just  as  plain  as  your  writing  was  to  yourself," 
I  insisted ;  and  leaning  back  with  a  sigh  he  swore  that 
never  for  a  single  moment  did  the  devil  lose  track  of 
him.  ' '  And  you  sat  there,  Richard,  and  saw  me  make 
a  fool  of  myself." 

"We  had  both  made  fools  of  ourselves  before  we 
got  there." 

"It  is  most  charitable  of  you  to  include  yourself. 
Hah,"  he  cried,  "but  if  she  has  at  last  discovered 
who  sent  the  book,  she  will  write  her  grateful 
acknowledgments  and  I  can  press  the  precious  docu 
ment  to  my  lips." 

His  mood  was  so  enlivened  that  I  had  not  the  heart 
to  rob  him  of  a  happiness  which  with  him  was  so 
easily  snatched  from  the  atmosphere  and  so  easily 
turned  loose,  to  fly  away  like  a  bird ;  and  as  we  drove 
along,  out  toward  the  church,  we  were  silent  for  the 
most  part,  Mahone  falling  occasionally  into  deep 
meditation. 


184  "By  the  Eternal." 

The  keeper  of  a  way-side  tavern,  not  far  from  the 
church,  requested  us  to  halt  and  to  have  supper  with 
him,  which  we  were  more  than  willing  to  do;  and 
when  the  negro  waiter  had  brought  a  roasted  chicken 
and  placed  it  before  Mahone,  to  be  carved,  the  Irish 
man  said  to  me:  "Even  the  fowls  of  the  barnyard 
remind  us  of  our  folly.  Did  you  notice,  Richard, 
that  those  two  chickens,  the  last  in  the  coop,  were 
about  the  oldest  in  creation  ? ' ' 

"If  you  noticed  it  why  did  you  take  them?"  I 
asked. 

"Because  I  didn't  notice  it  at  the  time,  but  now, 
with  my  memory;  and  that  is  the  trouble  with  me — 
I  notice  too  much  from  recollection.  In  that  lies  the 
difference  between  a  man  of  judgment  and  a  man  of 
regret. ' ' 

Then  he  proceeded  to  explain  to  the  inn-keeper  and 
his  wife  that  he  had  bought  from  a  poulterer  named 
Mason,  two  hens  that  must  have  escaped  the  famine 
at  Jamestown,  during  the  earlier  days  of  that  settle 
ment,  and  the  inn-keeper  and  his  thrifty  better  half 
broke  out  in  loud  laughter.  "We  let  Mason  have 
them  a  week  ago  for  three  yards  of  calico,"  said  the 
man,  "and  early  this  morning  when  I  was  in  town 
he  said  he  hadn't  been  able  to  get  rid  of  them.  We 
had  three,  all  of  the  same  family,  and  tried  to  eat 
one  of  them,  the  youngest,  I  believe,  and  she  held  her 
own  with  two  preachers  a  whole  day,  and  when  a 
hen  can  do  that  you  may  know  she  came  out  of  the 
ark." 

"Richard,  mind  that  now,"  said  Mahone.  "What 
am  I  to  do  about  it?" 

"Go  back  and  tell  her  that  they  were  not  intended 
for  the  table  but  for  the  nest,"  I  answered. 


I  Am  Denounced.  185 

He  looked  at  me  quizzically.  ''Do  you  mean  that 
now?  It  would  bring  about  an  awkward  situation, 
and  you  know  that  is  something  I  cannot  abide.  No, 
sir,  I'll  let  those  hens  take  their  own  chances." 

The  inn-keeper  said  that  the  chances  were  all  in 
their  favor,  whereupon  his  wife  remarked:  "They 
oughtn't  to  be  put  in  with  other  chickens  for  they 
are  inflicted  with  mites,  the  littlest  insects  you  ever 
saw,  and  if  they  get  on  you  they  are  the  most  annoy 
ing  things  you  ever  did  see,  that  is,  if  you  could  see 
them,  but  you  can't  and  that's  where  the  trouble 
comes  in." 

It  was  now  nearly  sunset,  and  as  services  were  to 
begin  at  early  candle-lighting,  we  drove  over  to  the 
church.  Those  were  surely  the  days  of  intense  re 
ligious  fervor.  As  an  organization,  the  Methodist 
church  was  comparatively  young.  Very  old  men  who 
had  heard  Wesley  and  Whitefield  in  Georgia  were 
still  living,  and  dated  the  real  reformation  from  that 
time.  The  circuit  rider  was  more  than  a  preacher — 
more  than  a  path-finder;  he  was  a  path-maker.  If 
in  the  cane  brake  you  heard  two  sticks  snap,  one  was 
broken  by  a  bear,  the  other  by  an  itinerant  preacher 
of  the  Methodist  church.  One  of  the  requisites  of  a 
minister  of  this  faith  was  absolute  fearlessness. 

From  every  direction  the  people  were  coming, 
through  the  dusk,  many  of  them  singing  hymns. 
During  more  than  a  week  a  revival  had  been  in  prog 
ress,  but  it  was  Peter  Cartwright's  first  night  in  this, 
a  new  church.  The  house  was  soon  filled  to  over 
flowing,  the  women  and  girls  all  sitting  on  one  side 
of  the  aisle,  the  men  and  boys  on  the  other.  All  was 
quiet  before  Cartwright  arose,  and  when  he  did  arise 
there  fell  a  silence,  a  pulsating  hush  that  was  pain- 


186  "By  the  Eternal." 

ful.  The  healing  wound  in  my  side  throbbed.  It 
seemed  that  I  could  hear  it. 

We  know  that  all  great  orators  are  great  actors. 
Cartwright  had  doubtless  never  seen  the  inside  of  a 
theatre,  but  he  was  a  wonderful  actor.  And  at  times, 
every  gesture  was  a  climax.  Not  with  the  pen,  not 
with  spoken  words  themselves  could  an  adequate  idea 
of  the  range,  the  modulation  and  the  power  of  his 
voice  be  conveyed.  In  speaking  of  the  greatest  of  all 
emotional  preachers,  the  copied  master  of  Cartwright, 
of  Lorenzo  Dow  and  of  thousands  of  others  who  have 
followed — in  speaking  of  Whitefield,  David  Garrick 
is  said  to  have  remarked:  "He  can  pronounce  the 
word  'Mesopotamia'  in  such  a  way  as  to  move  an 
audience  to  tears." 

In  the  light  of  day,  in  print,  Cartwright 's  words  to 
any  reasoning  mind  would  have  been,  not  even  rhet 
oric  of  the  most  flamboyant  order,  but  bombast  of 
most  ridiculous  degree — coarse,  not  to  say  at  times  in 
decent;  but  spoken  in  the  candle  light,  now  in  trem 
ulous  melody,  now  in  a  bugle  call,  their  effect  was 
miraculous.  Sometimes  he  sobbed,  and  in  one  sob 
was  a  torrent  of  words.  The  house  no  longer  held  an 
audience,  but  an  emotional  mob.  Women  fell  upon 
the  floor,  shrieking;  and  an  old  man  sitting  near  me 
sprang  to  his  feet  and  cried  out:  "If  the  devil  is 
present,  let  him  step  forward  and  I  will  meet  him 
face  to  face — I  will  fight  him." 

"Sit  down,  deluded  brother,"  the  preacher  ex 
claimed.  "Know  ye  all  that  the  only  way  the  devil 
can  be  fought  is  with  fire,  not  with  his  own  fire,  but 
with  fiery  zeal  for  the  Lord.  But  there  is  one  among 
you — ' '  and  at  this  moment  his  eye  pierced  me — ' '  one 
among  you,  if  no  more,  who  defies  the  power,  who 


I  Am  Denounced.  1ST 

sets  himself  up  as  his  own  criterion.  Oh,  young  man, 
put  aside  your  vanity,  come  forward  and  kneel  with 
us  at  this  altar.  Because  you  narrowly  escaped  the 
devil  once,  do  not  persuade  yourself  that  you  can  do 
so  all  the  time.  Pride  and  a  fine  horse  will  drag  you 
down. ' ' 

It  was  a  long  time  since  I  had  heard  of  my  horse. 
Other  things  having  arisen  to  occupy  my  mind  I  had 
forgotten  him,  except  when  I  chanced  to  meet  him  in 
the  pasture  and  even  then  not  making  much  over  him, 
not  being  particularly  enamored  of  horse  flesh. 

' '  When  you  think  you  are  well  mounted  and  safest, 
young  man,  you  may  find  yourself  floundering  in  the 
muck  and  the  mire  of  perdition.  Come  while  it  is  yet 
time.  Think  of  the  promises  you  may  have  made  to 
some  young  girl  or  to  your  mother.  Don't  let  Satan 
shout  '  coward '  in  your  ear.  He  is  stubborn, ' '  and  he 
shook  his  finger  at  me,  a  fiery  lash.  "But  let  him  go 
his  way,  Satan's  way.  The  dews  of  death  may  lie 
cold  upon  his  countenance,  frozen  in  the  agony  of 
despair.  Let  him  go,  not  that  his  soul  is  not  precious 
in  our  sight,  but  that  his  fate  may  serve  as  an  ex 
ample.  Shall  he  perish?" 

' '  No, ' '  shouted  a  man,  seizing  me  by  the  arm.  ' '  No, 
we  will  drag  him  to  the  altar." 

How  I  escaped  from  him  and  got  out  of  the  house  I 
am  unable  to  tell.  I  remember,  however,  that  the 
man  clung  to  me  until  the  preacher  cried :  ' l  Let  him 
go  his  way.  Those  that  we  must  force  to  come  are  so 
full  of  the  devil's  commandments  that  they  would 
pollute  this  altar.  Let  him  go  his  way." 

-I  thought  that  I  had  been  offered  up  as  a  spectacle 
to  the  whole  congregation,  but  found  afterward  that 
it  was  an  incident  too  common  to  be  recalled.  Out- 


188  "By  the  Eternal.'1 

side  in  the  grove,  wives  were  searching  for  their  hus 
bands,  mothers  for  their  sons,  shouting  for  them  to 
come  out  of  the  darkness  into  the  fold  before  the 
gates  were  closed  forever.  One  woman  seized  me  by 
mistake,  and  even  as  I  was  trying  to  explain  that  I 
was  not  her  son,  she  strove  to  drag  me  back  into  the 
house. 

I  found  Mahone  sitting  in  the  buggy.  "How  did 
you  escape?"  I  inquired. 

"Begorry,"  he  answered,  "I  soon  found  that  it 
was  no  place  for  an  Irishman,  and  I  got  out  about  the 
time  I  went  in.  Did  you  see  the  elf?" 

"No.    Is  she  there?" 

"Ah,  is  she?  A  beautiful  flower  in  the  midst  of 
the  wind;  and  although  the  tears  were  streaming 
down  her  face,  yet  I  could  see  that  she  is  not  of  this — 
this  exorbitant  faith.  Get  in,  and  if  the  sinners  that 
have  taken  refuge  in  the  darkness  haven't  cut  our 
traces  we'll  drive  out  of  this.  Did  you  see  the  young 
doctor?  He  was  there,  and  I  looked  through  the 
window  at  him,  and  his  countenance  was  as  smooth 
as  a  silk  handkerchief  folded  and  ironed  out.  At  the 
beginning  of  the  discourse  when  the  preacher  touched 
upon  Christian  duty,  the  doctor  looked  over,  caught 
the  eye  of  the  elf  and  smiled,  turning  it  all  to  his  own 
account. ' ' 

Shortly  after  we  reached  home,  and  while  I  was 
walking  alone  beneath  the  trees,  the  doctor  and  Net 
tie  drove  up  to  the  gate.  I  stood  apart  in  the  shadow 
to  let  them  pass  me  on  their  way  to  the  house.  To 
gether  they  entered  the  front  door,  but  a  few  mo 
ments  later  the  girl  came  out,  alone,  walking  slowly 
down  the  path,  towards  me.  "Richard,"  she  softly 


/  Am  Denounced.  189 

called,  but  when  I  stepped  out  into  the  pathway  she 
seemed  frightened. 

"Why,  I  really  didn't  know  you  were  here,"  she 
said.  ' '  I  didn  't  see  any  one  at  all.  And  I  called  be 
cause  I  was  thinking  about  you — how  they  treated 
you  over  at  the  church.  But  I  am  sure  they  didn't 
mean  any  harm  by  it.  I  could  have  told  them  that 
you  had  been  baptized  in  the  Episcopal  church.  How 
did  I  know?  I  was  talking  to  Aunt  Rachel  about  you 
and  she  told  me.  Cousin  Wilbur  said  it  was  a  good 
joke,  the  way  they  treated  you,  but  it  made  me  feel 
awfully  bad." 

She  took  my  arm  and  we  walked  out  toward  the 
gate.  "I  am  glad  I  found  you,"  she  said.  "Twice 
I  Ve  called  you  out  in  the  dark,  and  you  were  not 
there.  I  wanted  so  much  to  see  you  to-night  because  I 
am  going  to  town  to  school  to-morrow,  and  can't 
come  out  here  again  for  nearly  a  week,  but  ofter  that 
I  will  come  out  every  Saturday  night.  Are  you  cold 
this  hot  night?  You  shake  like  you  had  a  chill." 

I  told  her  that  I  was  not  cold,  declared  that  I  was 
not  shaking,  spoke  a  hundred  meaningless  words; 
and,  hanging  lightly  on  my  arm,  she  laughed  at  me. 
"Are  you  glad  I'm  going  to  stay  here  instead  of  go 
ing  over  to  Aunt  'Riah's?"  she  asked,  and  I  could 
but  answer  in  commonplace  assurance  that  I  was 
"very  glad  indeed." 

"Now  we  must  walk  right  straight  back  again," 
she  declared  when  we  had  reached  the  gate.  "For 
the  first  thing  I  know,  Grandpa  Cousin  Wilbur  will 
wake  up  and  think  it  his  duty  to  find  out  where  I 
am.  And  it  is,  too,  I  suppose.  Come  on." 

She  swung  me  about,  and  with  increasing  slow 
ness,  as  Mahone  would  have  said,  we  walked  toward 


190  "By  the  Eternal" 

the  house.  At  the  door  we  halted,  neither  of  us 
knowing  what  for,  and  on  the  step  above  me  she  stood, 
just  within  the  fan  light.  Nothing  is  too  vague  for 
the  fancy  of  youth — and  I  imagined  that  from  her 
hair  perfumed  shadows  were  falling.  "Good-night," 
she  said,  and  nothing  but  shadows  remained. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

HE  DID  NOT  REGRET. 

I  did  not  see  Nettie  before  she  was  driven  into 
town  on  the  following  morning,  but  I  had  what  I  had 
long  looked  for,  the  opportunity  to  bid  Wilbur  Page 
good-bye.  He  said  that  he  would  like  to  speak  with 
me  alone,  and  together  we  walked  out  toward  the 
barn.  I  felt  that  something  was  coming  and  it  made 
me  nervous.  It  could  not,  thus  early,  be  the  trouble 
that  Mahone  predicted,  but  I  knew  that  it  could  not 
bi-  a  pleasure;  and  with  him  I  walked  in  dread  of 
what  was  coming. 

"Fine  day,"  he  began,  with  natural  skirmish, 
leading  up  to  the  engagement  of  all  his  forces,  and  I 
agreed  that  it  was. 

' l  Mr.  Staggs,  there  is  something  I  wanted  to  talk  to 
you  about." 

' '  I  presumed  as  much,  sir,  and  I  hope  that  you  will 
proceed  at  once." 

We  had  halted  at  the  fence.  From  a  rail  he  ripped 
a  sliver  and  with  his  knife  began  to  whittle  upon  it. 
1  knew  what  it  was  to  be  shot,  but  I  didn't  w7ant  to 
know  what  it  was  to  be  stabbed,  so  I  kept  a  sharp  eye 
on  him. 

"I  know,  sir,  that  you  are  strongly  attached  to — " 

"Only  in  a  most  honorable  way,  sir,"  I  broke  in. 

' '  Yes, ' '  he  said,  plying  his  knife,  ' '  attached  to  your 
horse,  but — 

"To  my  horse?" 

191 


192  "By  the  Eternal." 

"Yes,  and  very  naturally  so." 

"Is  it  my  horse  you  want  to  talk  about?  Then  go 
ahead  without  any  embarrassment." 

"Oh,  no  embarrassment,  I  assure  you — except — 
well,  the  truth  is,  he  is  the  very  animal  I  shall  need 
in  my  practice,  and  while  I  do  not  desire  you  to  men 
tion  it  to  the  General,  or  to  any  one  else,  for  that 
matter,  yet  I  should  like  to  buy  him  and  give  you  my 
note." 

I  was  almost  grateful  enough  to  have  given  him  the 
horse,  but  I  answered :  ' '  Your  note  is  perfectly  good, 
no  doubt,  but  I  don't  care  to  sell  him  even  for  cash." 

"I  hope  you'll  think  better  of  it,  sir." 

"That  is  the  best  I  can  think  of  it." 

"Well,  then,  I'm  sorry— don't  mention  it — good 
bye." 

"While  I  was  standing  there,  Mahone  came  along, 
taking  a  short  cut  from  the  store,  never  taking  one 
toward  it.  I  told  him  the  outcome  of  my  dreaded 
talk  with  Page,  and  he  roared,  and  when  he  could 
speak  without  laughing,  he  said:  "Why,  he  thinks 
his  authority  over  her  is  so  well  established  that — 
that  he  doesn't  need  to  warn  you." 

"But  you  mistake  me,  Dan.  I  shall  never  attempt 
to — to  swerve  her  from  her  duty  to  him.  We  ought 
not  to  love  where  we  have  no  right." 

"Oh,  the  moralist.  If  Mr.  Addison  were  not  dead, 
I  would  write  to  him.  I  would  ask  him  to  compose  an 
essay  on  the  moral  obligation  of  a  duelist.  Love  is 
like  a  new  country — it  is  a  matter  of  conquest;  and 
when  a  woman,  either  consciously  or  unconsciously 
gives  a  man  an  opportunity  to  take  her  love  and  he 
doesn't — why  she  always  holds  it  against  him  after 
ward.  I  am  a  man  of  vast  experience — " 


He  Did  Not  Regret.  193 

"How  many  love  affairs  have  you  had,  Dan?" 

' '  Only  one,  but  in  that  one  the  experience  was  vast. 
And  let  me  tell  you:  A  man  that  would  speak  of  a 
horse  as  this  fellow  did  when  he  had  good  cause  to 
speak  of  a  girl,  and  one  of  the  handsomest  in  the 
world,  at  that,  deserves  to  be  robbed — it  would  be  a 
Christian  duty  to  rob  him." 

The  moral  duty  of  a  duelist !  I  thought  of  it  many 
times  during  the  day,  while  walking  about,  while  try 
ing  to  read;  and  I  must  confess  that  there  were  mo 
ments  when  my  obligation  to  moral  duty  did  not  seem 
strong. 

That  night  when  the  General  returned  from  town 
rather  late,  he  sent  word  to  my  room  that  he  desired 
to  see  me  in  his  library,  on  important  business.  Dress 
ing  as  hastily  as  I  could,  I  went  to  his  "library,"  a 
room  where  on  the  walls  there  were  a  few  books, 
many  pistols,  swords  and  the  tails  of  foxes.  He  was 
sitting  in  his  arm  chair,  but  as  I  entered  he  arose  as 
if  I  had  been  a  man  of  importance,  and  bowed  to  me. 
"Sit  down,"  he  said,  and  when  I  had  done  so,  won 
dering  what  was  to  come  out  of  this  late  meeting,  he 
inquired :  ' '  How  long  has  it  been  since  you  had  any 
direct  information  relative  to  your  estate  in  Vir 
ginia  ? ' ' 

"Not  since  I  came  to  Tennessee.  There  was  such 
a  tangle — " 

"Not  so  much  of  a  tangle  as  you  may  have  been 
led  to  believe, ' '  he  interrupted.  ' '  To-day  there  ar 
rived  a  lawyer  named  Beal.  Have  you  ever  had  any 
correspondence  with  him?" 

"If  I  remember  rightly,  he  wrote  to  my  guardian, 
some  time  ago." 

"Well,  he  has  come  out  here  to  see  you,  is  at  the 


194  "By  the  Eternal" 

Nashville  inn  now  and  will  be  at  the  Hermitage  early 
to-morrow  morning.  The  matter  of  your  interest  has 
come  up  for  final  adjustment  and  it  will  be  necessary 
for  you  to  go  to  Virginia  at  once.  Are  you  able  ? ' ' 

"Yes,  sir,  I  feel  strong,  and  my  wound  doesn't 
pain  me  any." 

"Have  you  any  idea  as  to  what  you  may  be  worth, 
when  you  return?" 

"None  whatever,  sir." 

"Yet  you  intend  to  practice  law,  which  is  states 
manship  as  well  as  business.  You  ought  to  be  worth 
at  least  a  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars.  And, 
sir,"  and  here  his  voice  wavered,  "I  have  learned  by 
accident  that  you  made  me  heir  to  this  estate,  in  the 
event  of  your  death  at  the  hand  of  Lismukes." 

"The  amount  involved  made  no  difference,  Gen 
eral.  It  would  have  been  the  same  if  I  had  thought 
it  was  worth  a  million." 

"Yes,  I  understand  that.  But  it  moves  me  deeply. 
I  know  how  you  felt  on  that  morning,  walking  to 
meet  a  sure  shot — almost  certain  death.  Of  course 
you  have  heard  of  my  trouble  with  Dickinson."  He 
glanced  up  at  two  pistols,  crossed  on  the  wall  just 
above  his  head.  "The  one  with  the  butt  toward  you 
killed  him — has  a  slight  notch,  cut  in  the  stock  on  that 
morning.  His  aim  was  known  as  certain  death.  He 
could  stand  off  ten  steps,  and  upon  the  word,  put  as 
many  bullets  as  he  chose  to  fire  in  a  space  not  bigger 
than  a  half  dollar." 

"I  have  read  numerous  accounts  of  your  meeting 
with  him,"  I  answered — "all  thrilling;  but  I  should 
esteem  it  a  great  favor  if  you  would  tell  me  the  story 
yourself  You  never  speak  of  it,  I  know,  and  I  have 
heard  that  many  attempts  have  been  made  to  induce 


He  Did  Not  Regret.  195 

y*u  to  express  yourself,  to  tell  how  you  felt  and  how 
you  still  feel —  I  strove  to  put  it  in  other  words 
but  heard  myself  say — "toward  that  unhappy  oc 
currence.  ' ' 

"Unhappy  indeed,"  the  General  replied.  "I  had 
resolved,  Richard,  never  to  speak  of  it  to  any  one, 
but  I  owe  you,  my  son — owe  you  more  than  any  man 
could  pay;  but  mind  you,  I  shall  not  do  so  as  a  dis 
charge  in  part  of  my  great  obligation,  but  as  a  con 
fession  of  the  close  kinship  that  lies  between  us." 

He  arose  and  began  slowly  to  walk  up  and  down 
the  room,  having  with  a  gesture  enjoined  silence  upon 
me,  not  wishing  me  to  thank  him. 

He  began :  ' '  Charles  Dickinson,  a  young  man,  had 
come  here  from  Virginia,  was,  as  we  understood, 
from  an  excellent  family,  and  in  consequence  was 
highly  respected.  To  say  that  he  was  not  always 
sober  would  be  the  truth,  but  the  same  could  be  said 
riot  only  then  but  now,  concerning  nearly  every 
prominent  man  in  the  State.  I  had  done  him  no  in 
jury,  had  uttered  no  word  against  him,  and  I  am  un 
able  to  find  a  cause  for  the  violent  dislike  he  formed 
against  me.  The  byways  leading  to  the  main  issue 
were  many  and  wearisome,  but  one  day,  word  was 
brought  me  that  he  had  spoken  of  Mrs.  Jackson.  By 
the  Eternal!  He  had  uttered  the  hell-invented  false 
hood  that  the  scoundrel  Lismukes  afterward  repeated 
in  your  hearing,  and  which,  as  you  know,  could  not 
help  but  have  cost  him  his  life.  Well,  I  sought  Dick 
inson,  found  him — and  in  the  most  quiet  manner 
asked  him  if  the  report  regarding  what  he  had  said 
were  true.  He  answered  without  hesitation  that  he 
may  have  spoken  to  that  effect  but  that  he  was  drink 
ing  at  the  time  and  therefore  he  was  not  responsible. 


196  "By  the  Eternal." 

I  pardoned  him  and  went  my  way.  This  ought  to 
have  ended  it,  but  did  not.  He  took  occasion  to  de 
nounce  me,  and,  sir,  to  repeat  his  slander.  And  now 
it  was  clear  that  his  intention  was  to  force  a  chal 
lenge. 

"One  day  General  Thomas  Overton  rode  out  to  my 
place  with  a  piece  of  decisive  information — that 
Dickinson  had  written  an  infamous  attack  about  me 
and  had  submitted  it  to  the  editor  of  the  Impartial 
Review,  for  publication.  'General  Overton'  said  I, 
'go  back  to  town  as  quickly  as  you  can,  ask  to  see  the 
article  and  return  here  with  your  mind  made  up  as 
to  what  I  must  do.'  He  did  so,  galloping  away,  and 
I  waited,  mortal  hour  after  mortal  hour. 

"When  Overton  returned  he  said:  'You  must  chal 
lenge  him.'  I  knew  that  it  was  an  affair — of  death, 
and  I  answered  that  I  must  see  the  article  myself. 
And  so,  I  mounted  my  horse  and  rode  to  town.  Mr,. 
Eastin,  the  editor,  did  not  hesitate  to  show  it  to  me. 
It  has  been  published  and  you  know  that  a  more 
scurrilous  lie  could  not  have  been  written.  A  mo 
ment  after  looking  at  it  I  had  made  up  my  mind,  and 
within  an  hour  later  I  handed  my  answer  to  Overton 
— a  challenge.  Then,  when  the  thing  was  done  there 
came  a  sort  of  relief.  The  trouble  had  been  long 
drawn  out — after  one  of  his  denunciations  of  me, 
Dickinson  had  gone  on  a  long  voyage  down  the  river 
and  had  just  returned ;  and,  sir,  I  had  heard  that  dur 
ing  the  whole  of  the  time  of  his  absence  he  had  prac 
ticed  with  his  pistol  to  render  his  deadly  aim  more 
deadly.  On  the  same  day  my  challenge  was  sent, 
Overton  received  from  Dr.  Catlet,  Dickinson's  sec 
ond,  an  acceptance.  Both  seconds  conferred  and 
drew  up  articles,  agreeing  that  we,  the  principals, 


He  Did  Not  Regret.  197 

should  meet  on  a  Friday  the  thirtieth  instant  at  Har 
rison  Mills,  in  Logan  county,  Kentucky,  but  when  the 
paper  was  submitted  to  me,  I  objected  to  waiting  a 
week.  Catlet  had  urged  delay  on  the  ground  that  his 
principal  had  no  dueling  pistols  and  that  it  would 
take  time  to  procure  them. 

' '  '  He  shall  have  choice  of  mine, '  said  I.  This  was 
on  Saturday,  May  24th,  and  it  was  finally  settled  that 
the  meeting  was  to  take  place  on  the  following  Fri 
day.  What  an  age  can  be  held  within  the  bounds 
of  so  short  a  time !  I  had  to  keep  it  from  Mrs.  Jack 
son;  had  to  seem  that  nothing  ef  unusual  moment 
was  on  my  mind;  and  at  night  I  sat,  listening  to  her 
as  she  read  the  Bible.  Thus  the  days  crawled  along. 
Often  I  detected  myself  wondering,  'what  shall  I 
know  this  time  next  week  ?  Shall  all  the  hidden  mys 
teries  that  religion  has  sought  to  fathom,  be  plain 
to  me?' 

"One  night — two  nights  before  the  meeting,  Mrs. 
Jackson,  after  having  read  from  the  Bible,  which 
I  preferred  to  the  New  Testament,  put  the  book  aside 
and  requested  me  to  let  her  read  the  story  of  the  con 
version  of  Paul.  I  consented,  of  course,  and  for  a 
long  time  I  reflected  over  that  great  man.  For  all 
churches  I  have  respect,  but  my  own  views  were  Cal- 
vanistic.  I  believed  that  if  I  had  been  created  to  be 
saved,  nothing  could  destroy  my  soul.  But  my  body ! 
Overton,  who  knew  Dickinson  well,  and  who  had  seen 
him  fire  at  a  mark,  could  give  me  no  encouragement, 
other  than  that  I  might  also  kill  him — and  with  all 
of  my  speculations  over  Paul,  this  was  the  sweetest 
hope  he  could  have  given. 

' '  Thursday  came.  The  place  of  meeting  was  a  day  'a 
ride.  With  my  party,  whom  I  met  in  Nashville,  I  was 


198  "By  the  Eternal." 

on  the  road  before  sunrise,  but  Dickinson  and  his 
friends  had  preceded  us.  This  was  brought  to  my  no 
tice  in  a  most  significant  manner.  It  is  true,  as  has 
been  printed  in  the  several  newspaper  accounts,  that 
while  riding  along,  Dickinson  engaged  the  attention 
of  his  friends  with  fine  shooting,  and  that  at  a  public 
house,  having  with  his  bullet  cut  a  string  that  hung 
from  a  tree,  he  told  the  landlord  to  call  my  attention 
to  the  feat.  The  landlord  did  so,  remarking  in  his 
rough  way  that  if  he  had  a  negro  with  no  better  hold 
on  his  life  he  would  sell  him  cheap  on  credit.  I  need 
ed  nothing  to  make  me  more  serious.  The  sad  faces 
of  my  friends  were  enough,  but  Overton  was  inclined 
now  to  be  hopeful,  not  however  that  escape  on  my 
part  was  possible,  but  that  I  might  be  only  wounded. 
In  the  fine  shooting  of  Dickinson  along  the  road  he 
read  signs  of  over  confidence. 

"The  method  which  had  been  decided  on  was  far 
out  of  the  ordinary.  We  were  to  stand  with  pistols 
down  until  the  word  was  given  to  fire.  There  was  to 
be  no  counting,  no  word  of  warning.  At  the  command 
each  was  to  fire  as  soon  as  possible  or  to  wait,  at  dis 
cretion,  just  as  he  thought  best.  There  was  a  bare  pos 
sibility  that  by  firing  first  I  might  hit  him,  but  Over- 
ton  stood  against  this  notion.  He  declared  that  Dick 
inson  being  quicker  was  sure  to  fire  first.  After  some 
discussion  of  the  chances  of  being  wholly  disabled,  I 
agreed  to  take  his  fire.  Late  in  the  afternoon  we  ar 
rived  at  an  inn  not  far  from  the  shores  of  the  Red 
River.  Here  we  put  up  for  the  night.  Dickinson  and  his 
party  found  accommodations  at  a  tavern  not  far 
away.  I  am  passing  over  many  details  because  they 
must  already  be  familiar  to  you.  After  supper,  and 
I  had  been  hungry,  my  spirits  rose,  and  I  felt  livelier 


He  Did  Not  Eegret.  199 

than  for  more  than  a  week  past.  Occasionally,  the 
picture  of  my  home  would  arise  before  me,  but  with 
an  effort  I  would  blur  it  and  join  in  with  my  friends, 
telling  stories. 

Overton  had  been  an  old  Revolutionary  soldier, 
and  I  never  grew  weary  of  hearing  him  tell  of  the 
hardships  he  endured,  of  the  battles  in  which  he  had 
been  engaged.  It  was  late  when  we  went  to  bed,  but 
we  were  up  early,  and  before  breakfast  rode  down  the 
river  to  the  place  appointed  for  the  meeting.  When 
we  had  dismounted  and  were  approaching  the  field, 
one  of  my  party  whose  countenance  was  anything  but 
encouraging,  asked  me  how  I  felt  about  the  situation. 
1  told  him  that  I  felt  well  and  had  perfect  control 
over  myself,  'and  I  shall  bring  him  down,'  I  added, 
but  I  saw  by  the  expression  of  his  countenance  that 
he  did  not  believe  it.  The  other  party  had  arrived. 
There  had  lately  been  rain,  and  the  country  was  fresh 
and  beautiful.  I  recall  a  red  bird  flying,  like  a  bit  of 
flame,  across  the  small  open  space.  Down  near  the 
river  bank,  where  a  field  fence  ran,  a  quail  was  call 
ing. 

"Dr.  Catlet  won  choice  of  positions  for  Dickin 
son,  but  to  Overton  fell  the  office  of  giving  the  com 
mand  to  fire.  There  was  no  unnecessary  deliber 
ation.  We  were  placed  in  position,  and  Overton  in 
quired  of  us  individually  if  we  were  ready;  and 
upon  receiving  the  assurance  that  we  were,  Dickin 
son  speaking  last,  my  second  cried — 'Fire.' 

"Instantly  I  felt  a  terrible  shock,  and  a  moment 
later  a  feeling  of  great  exultation  came  over  me.  I 
was  hit,  but  not  mortally — and  through  my  mind 
there  shot  the  thought,  like  the  flight  of  the  red  bird, 


200  "By  the  Eternal" 

like  a  flame:  'The  vengeance  of  justice  shall  cut 
down  the  slanderer.' 

"Overton  was  gazing  at  me — had,  as  he  afterward 
said,  seen  a  puff  of  dust  from  the  left  breast  of  my 
coat,  saw  me  raise  my  left  arm,  stared  in  dread  of 
my  falling;  and  then  drew  a  long  breath  of  relief. 
It  had  been  Dickinson's  aim  to  shoot  me  through  the 
heart,  and  his  aim  had  been  almost  perfect,  but  the 
buttoning  of  the  lower  button  of  my  coat,  puffing 
the  upper  part,  had  deceived  him  as  to  the  size  of  my 
body,  though  this  being  my  habit  I  had  not  thought 
to  deceive  him. 

"Ha,  I  remember  his  wild  look  of  terror  when  he 
realized  that  I  was  not  to  fall.  '  Great  God ! '  he  cried, 
'have  I  missed  him?'  And  Overton,  with  his  pistol 
raised,  thundered:  'Back  to  the  mark,  sir.'  Dick 
inson  had  fallen  back,  but  instantly  he  stepped  for 
ward  and  stood  resigned.  He  knew  that  his  time  had 
come,  and  I  knew  it,  for  as  I  was  reported  to  have 
said,  I  should  have  remained  standing  long  enough 
to  kill  him  if  he  had  shot  me  through  the  brains." 

The  General  paused  and  took  down  the  pistols,  the 
one  with  the  notch  cut  in  the  stock.  The  candle  was 
burning  low.  Shadows  flew  about  the  walls,  red 
birds,  black  birds. 

"Yes,  by  the  Eternal  God,  his  time  had  come.  In 
my  heart  there  was  no  more  of  forgiveness  than 
there  is  in  the  heart  of  nature  when  man  has  out 
raged  her.  I  raised  my  pistol,  this  pistol,  and  took 
steady  aim.  I  felt  my  blood  flowing,  but  my  nerves 
were  steel.  I  pulled  the  trigger.  The  hammer  stopped 
at  half-cock.  Enemies  said  that  I  had  done  this  to 
prolong  the  agony,  but  I  had  not.  My  agony  was  to 
see  him  still  alive,  the  slanderer  of — of  her."  He 


He  Did  Not  Regret.  201 

pointed  toward  the  room  where  his  wife  was  sleep 
ing.  "I  recocked  the  pistol,  took  another  aim,  as 
steady  as  before,  and  fired.  Dickinson  staggered. 
His  friends  ran  forward  and  caught  him  and  eased 
him  to  the  ground.  Overton  walked  up,  looked  at 
him,  as  they  were  stripping  off  his  clothes,  came  back 
and  said  to  me:  'He  doesn't  need  anything  more 
from  you,  General.'  Then  he  discovered  that  I  was 
bleeding.  I  assured  him  that  my  wound  was  not 
serious.  But  to  the  main  point,  the  expression  that 
so  many  have  sought  to  extract  from  me.  I  deplore 
the  necessity,  but  I  do  not  regret  the  act.  There  can 
never  come  a  time  when  I  shall  not  believe  it  was  a 
righteous  decree — his  death  at  my  hand." 

He  stood,  a  grim  statue;  and  then,  darkness.    The 
candle  was  out. 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

MRS.  BILLIARD  AND  HER  ACADEMY. 

ATTORNEY  BEAL  came  out  early  on  the  fol 
lowing  day.  He  first  went  to  the  pastures  to 
look  at  the  stock,  and  then  was  kind  enough  to 
mention  to  me  the  nature  of  his  important  business. 
It  was  soon  decided  that  on  the  next  day  we  were 
to  set  out,  horse-back,  for  Virginia.  Then  he  went 
over  to  another  pasture  to  look  at  the  cattle.  In  the 
afternoon  I  sat  with  Mahone,  beneath  the  trees,  in 
front  of  the  store.  With  the  thought  of  my  leaving 
him  he  was  greatly  depressed.  But  soon  he  bright 
ened. 

"Richard,"  said  he,  "I've  been  thinking  of  a  great 
scheme  for  us  both.  In  the  event  that  the  lawsuit  is 
settled  in  your  favor  you  will  want  to  invest  some 
of  your  fortune.  To  a  man  of  my  industrious  hab 
its  it  would  seem  a  crime  to  let  it  lie  idle.  So  now 
I  have  a  plan.  I  have  shrewdly  observed  that  all  up 
and  down  this  river  there  are  fine  sites  for  stores. 
Build  one  and  put  me  in  charge  of  it  as  your  active 
partner.  I  might  suggest  larger  operations,  in  Nash 
ville,  but  it  would  look  too  much  as  if  we  had  de 
signs  on  Harvey,  to  rob  him  of  his  trade  because  ho 
had  robbed  me  of  the  widow  that  was.  What  do  you 
think  of  it?" 

' '  I  think  we  'd  better  postpone  any  definite  arrange 
ments  until  we  settle  up  the  estate." 

"Perhaps  you  are  right.  Yes,  that  was  well  thought 
out.  How  long  do  you  suppose  it  will  take?" 


Mrs.  Billiard  and  Her  Academy.  203 

"Well,  you  know  what  courts  are." 

"I  do,  sir;  my  father's  brother  had  a  small  case 
in  court,  and  it  wore  along  till  the  court  itself  was 
finally  abolished  and  no  one  ever  knew  what  became 
of  the  suit.  My  father  said  it  must  have  fallen  out 
of  the  wagon  as  they  were  hauling  off  the  ancient 
furniture.  But  tell  me :  Will  you  see  the  elf  before 
you  take  your  long  journey?" 

"I'll  ride  into  town  this  evening  to  see  her." 

"Arrah,  I  applaud  your  decision.  But  mind  you, 
don't  leave  her  without  saying  something.  Some 
times,  you  know,  a  man  beats  about  the  bush  till 
there  is  nothing  left  but  bushes  to  beat.  Mind  that." 

I  did  mind  it  as  I  rode  along  toward  town,  but 
with  the  tongue  shut  in  the  hard  stocks  of  duty,  what 
can  one  say? 

The  school  building  was  not  pretentious.  It  was 
constructed  of  logs,  "frame,"  and  with  a  new  addi 
tion  of  brick.  A  brass  plate  on  the  front  door  in 
formed  me  that  it  was  "Mrs.  Hilliard's  Academy  for 
Young  Ladies."  I  lifted  an  enormous  bronze  knock 
er,  head  of  a  lion,  let  it  fall,  and  the  whole  neighbor 
hood  was  reverberant  with  noises,  a  great  sound  shat 
tered,  the  fragments  meeting  one  another  at  corners, 
in  the  garden,  to  blend  and  then  to  split,  to  fly  off 
into  the  distance  and  to  fall  down  upon  the  hills. 
If  no  one  had  come  I  should  not  have  knocked  again. 
I  would  not  have  run  another  risk  of  fracturing  the 
community.  Fortunately,  some  one  came,  a  negress, 
who  asked  me  if  I  wished  to  see  any  one,  and  upon 
receiving  unqualified  assurance  that  I  did,  she  in 
vited  me  into  the  parlor,  where  there  were  pictures 
that  looked  like  the  portraits  of  governors.  In  a 
corner  stood  a  harp,  and  as  I  was  looking  at  it,  won- 


204  "By  the  Eternal." 

dering  how  many  hands  had  swept  its  strings,  in 
came  a  woman  stately  enough  to  have  aroused  the 
envy  of  Martha  Washington.  And  as  I  bowed  lower 
and  lower,  I  thought  of  something  said  of  the  elder 
Pitt,  by  Chesterfield,  I  believe,  that  in  the  presence 
of  royalty  you  could  stand  behind  this  great  de 
fender  of  the  Americans  and  see  his  hook  nose  down 
between  the  calves  of  his  legs. 

She  said  that  she  was  Mrs.  Hilliard,  which  I  would 
not  have  doubted  for  the  world,  and  then  she  asked 
if  she  might  be  so  bold  as  to  inquire  as  to  the  object 
of  my  visit.  I  believe  that  at  this  moment,  had  the 
window  been  raised  a  little  higher,  I  should  have 
leaped  through  it  and  run  away  after  the  shattered 
noises,  to  fall  down  with  them  upon  the  distant  hills, 
but  as  there  was  no  way  of  escape  open  I  bowed  again 
and  mumbled,  "Miss  Nettie  Blakemore." 

"Ah,  a  relative?" 

It  would  have  been  hazardous  to  declare  myself 
her  cousin.  Cousins  were  as  dangerous  then  as  now; 
and  I  feared  to  proclaim  myself  her  uncle.  I  hesi 
tated. 

"A  relative,  sir?" 

I  thought  of  Mrs.  'Jackson's  host  of  "distant  con 
nections."  "Yes,  madam,  her — her  adopted — she  is 
my  adopted  sister.  I  adopted  her  with  the  consent 
of — of  all  parties  concerned."  Again  I  bowed. 
Straightening  up  I  saw  that  she  was  looking  at  me 
fixedly. 

"Will  you  please  state  your  business  with  her?" 

"I  would  most  willingly;  yes,  madam,  but  the  fact 
is  I  have  no  business,  except  to  tell  her  good-bye. 
My  name,  begging  your  pardon  for  not  having  intro 
duced  myself — but  the  fact  is,  if  I  must  acknowledge 


Mrs.  Billiard  and  Her  Academy.  205 

it,  that  with  your  unexpected  grace  you  have  over 
whelmed  me."  It  was  time  for  another  bow,  and 
when  I  looked  up  she  was  smiling.  "Madam,  I  am 
Richard  Staggs,  from  the  Hermitage." 

"Ah,  why  didn't  you  tell  me  where  you  were 
from?"  That  seemed  to  make  more  difference  than 
who  I  was.  "I  will  send  Miss  Blakemore  down  at 
once.  Be  seated." 

She  floated  out  of  the  room,  and  without  seeming  to 
employ  her  feet,  ascended  the  hall  stairway.  I  stood 
with  my  back  toward  the  door,  looking  at  a  portrait 
— and  then  my  blood  rippled.  Nettie  was  in  the 
room,  laughing. 

"Let  us  sit  over  here  on  the  sofa,  where  none  of 
the  girls  can  peep  at  us  down  the  stairs.  Oh,  but  it's 
good  to  see  some  one  from  home,  for  it  seems  like  a 
year  since  I  left  there.  And  you  are  looking  so  well. 
Your  face  isn't  half  so  pale  as  it  was.  Did  Cousin 
Wilbur  tell  you  good-bye?" 

"Yes,  he  led  me  over  toward  the  barn  and — ' 

"And  said  something  about  me.  I  know  he  did, 
although  he  promised  not  to.  What  did  he  say?" 

"Not  a  word  about  you." 

"He  didn't— not  a  word?   The— the  stingy  thing." 

"What  did  you  expect  him  to  say?" 

"Oh,  I  thought  he  might  tell  you  how  much  he 
thought  of  me." 

"No,  that  isn't  it.  As  Mahone  would  say,  you  are 
beating  about  the  bush.  Tell  me,  didn't  he  lec 
ture—" 

"Oh,  he  always  does  that.  He  can't  talk  with 
out  lecturing.  He  is  the  lecturingest  man  in  the 
world.  How  is  Mr.  Mahone?  Oh,  Mrs.  Harvey  was 
over  here  last  night,  and  she  walked  about  in  the  yard 


206  "By  the  Eternal." 

with  me  and  talked  about  him  all  the  time;  and  I 
wondered  why  she  didn  't  marry  him,  but  I  suppose  it 
was  her  duty  to  marry  Mr.  Harvey — she  must  have 
promised  she  would,  and  Aunt  'Riah  and  the 
preacher  that  comes  there,  say  that  promises  of  that 
sort  are  almost  as  sacred  as  marriages,  and  I  suppose 
they  are,  don't  you?" 

"No,  I  don't — I  mean  I  don't  know.  But  Nettie, 
I  do  know — ' 

"Know  what,  Mr.  Wise?" 

"I  know  that  marriage  without  love  is  a  great 
crime. ' ' 

I  was  looking  into  her  eyes,  and  she  opened  them 
wider — that  was  all.  Her  countenance  did  not 
change.  ' '  But  when  people  marry  there  must  be  love, 
of  course.  Why,  they  are  married  then." 

"But,  Nettie,  marriage  does  not  always  mean 
love." 

"I  thought  it  did.  But  don't  let  us  talk  about  it. 
Do  I  look  as  if  I  'd  been  studying  hard  ?  I  have — as 
hard  as  ever  I  can ;  and  pretty  soon  when  you  come 
to  see  me  I  can  talk  just  like  Mrs.  Hilliard — and 
walk  like  her,  too.  She  tries  to  teach  all  the  girls  to 
walk  that  way,  and  it  gets  so  funny  that  I  have  to  slip 
off  somewhere  and  laugh.  But  I'm  not  giving  you  a 
chance  to  say  a  word,  and  they  won't  let  you  stay 
very  long  after  the  negro  woman  lights  the  candles. 
Here  she  comes  now." 

The  candles  were  lighted.  I  heard  some  one  cough 
ing  slightly,  at  the  head  of  the  stairs,  and  I  knew 
that  Mrs.  Hilliard  had  sounded  the  first  alarm. 
When  the  negress  had  gone  out,  I  said : 

"Nettie,  I  have  come  to  tell  you  good-bye." 

' '  Why  don 't  you  put  it,  come  to  say  howdy  ? ' ' 


Mrs.  Hilliard  and  Her  Academy.  207 

"I  mean  that  I  am  to  be  gone  for  a  long  time,  in 
Virginia,  to  settle  an  estate  that  has  been  in  the 
courts  many  years.  A  lawyer  has  come  for  me,  and 
I  am  to  go  back  with  him  to-morrow  morning." 

She  sat  perfectly  still.  She  did  not  utter  a  word. 
I  took  her  hand,  but  it  lay  limp,  but  warm,  like  a 
bird  just  shot  dead.  "But  I  shall  be  back  long  be 
fore  you  are — are  eighteen."  The  bird  fluttered  to 
life,  flew  away. 

"Oh,  I  am  awfully  sorry,"  she  said,  and  now  her 
face  was  pale.  "And  I  do  hope  you  will  come  back 
before — before  then." 

"If  I  should  be  gone  a  very  long  time,  I  hope  you 
won't  forget — the  ride  we  had  in  the  woods." 

"The  old  whale  that  swallowed  Jonah,"  she  said, 
smiling  faintly.  "No,  I  can't  forget  that — can't 
forget  anything." 

The  cough  was  coming  down  the  stairs.  I  arose 
and  took  her  hand — both  hands.  Gently  I  drew  her 
toward  me,  nearer — and  our  lips  met. 

The  cough  had  formed  itself  into  a  loud  "ahem," 
at  the  door. 


CHAPTER  XXIIL 

JUST  WAITING. 

BY  sunrise  the  next  morning,  Mr.  Beal  and  I 
were  under  way  to  Virginia.  Mahone  *  had 
arisen  before  day,  to  ride  with  me  the  first  few 
miles  of  the  long  journey.  Beat's  horse  trotted  along 
in  advance  of  us.  The  day  was  cloudy,  as  were  my 
spirits,  and  yet  within  my  heart  a  happiness  came,  to 
throb,  to  die  away  and  then  to  come  again.  It  was  a 
memory  sweeter  than  the  honey  of  the  poplar  bloom. 
Her  lips  had  come  gladly  to  meet  mine.  There  had 
been  no  beating  about  the  bush,  and  I  told  Mahone  so, 
as  we  rode  along. 

"Arrah,  you  are  getting  a  little  sense  in  your  old 
age,"  he  said.  "And  if  you  want  her,  I  don't  see 
how  the  devil  himself  can  take  her  away  from  you. 
I  blame  myself  for  being  so  conscientious  with  the 
widow.  Conscience  is  all  well  enough  between  man 
and  man,  but  when  it  comes  to  woman,  you've  got  to 
use  your  judgment,  and  the  sharpest  judgment  you 
have.  And  the  more  time  you  give  her  to  think,  the 
less  she  thinks  of  you.  Of  course,  you'll  write  to 
her.  But  don't  write  in  care  of  that  school.  That 
Mrs.  Hellion,  or  whatever  her  name  happens  to  be  at 
the  time,  would  read  it  publicly  and  then  order  it 
burnt  by  the  hangman.  Richard,  an  inspiration. 
Send  it  in  my  care  and  I  will  take  it  to  Arabella,  and 
she  will  take  it  to  the  elf.  I  wouldn't  take  a  thou- 

208 


Just  Waiting.  209 

sand  dollars  and  a  pair  of  mules  for  this  mind  of 
mine. ' ' 

"I  don't  think  I'd  better  write  to  her,  Dan." 
' '  Of  course  you  don 't.    I  could  have  told  you  that. 
And  you'll  think  that  way  up  to  the  time  you  take 
your  pen  in  hand.    By  the  way,  as  old  Falstaff  would 
speak  it,  there  is  villainous  news  abroad.     Did  you 
see  the  paper  yesterday?     It  says  that  a  gentleman 
whose  word  cannot  be  questioned  has  arrived  from 
Washington  \vith  the  information  that  war  will  soon 
be  declared  with  England.  And  if  it  should  be,  where 
will  you  find  Daniel   Mahone?     In  the  front  rank, 
where  he  belongs.     I'm  getting  tired  of  this  mercan 
tile  life.     I  was  not  cut  out  for  these  costermonger 
times.     And  if  the  war  should  come,  hurry  back  as 
soon  as  you  can  and  we  will  go  in  together." 
"I'll  give  you  my  hand  on  that,  Dan." 
We  drew  up  and  solemnly  shook  hands.     "This  is 
a  good  time  to  leave  you,"  said  he.    "How  few  men 
know  when  they  have   reached  the    proper  climax. 
Take  care  of  yourself,  and  the  Lord  bless  you." 

I  overtook  Mr.  Beal,  and  as  I  was  now  full  of  a  sub 
ject  which  I  had  heard  the  General  discuss,  which 
had  been  talked  about  for  a  long  time  before  the  gen 
tleman  whose  word  could  not  be  questioned  had  ar 
rived  from  Washington — the  war,  I  spoke  of  it  to  my 
companion.  He  shook  his  head  gravely  and  an 
swered  that  he  feared  there  would  be  trouble.  This 
angered  me  somewhat,  believing  as  I  did  that  every 
patriot  ought  with  enthusiasm  to  welcome  the  event 
of  war.  He  admitted  as  a  truth,  that  England  in 
sulted  us  on  the  sea,  and  everywhere,  for  that  matter ; 
he  acknowledged  that  the  great  Mississippi  valley 
would  become  stagnant  unless  we  owned  without 


210  "By  the  Eternal." 

question  the  mouth  of  the  river,  "and  yet,"  he  de 
clared,  again  gravely  shaking  his  head,  "I  hope  that 
there  will  be  no  war.  It  would  ruin  our  commerce 
and—" 

"Sir,"  I  exclaimed,  "a  people  that  are  afraid  of 
losing  their  commerce — who  place  their  shipping 
above  everything  else,  do  not  deserve  liberty." 

"Tut,  tut,"  he  said,  "you  are  a  boy  in  a  debating 
society.  You  stand  ready  to  declaim,  'I  come  not 
here  to  talk.  You  know  too  well  the  story  of  our 
thraldom.  We  are  slaves.'  Now  my  father  was  a 
soldier  during  the  Eevolution,  and  I  know  something 
about  war." 

"On  which  side  was  your  father,  sir?"  I  de 
manded. 

"Tut,  tut.  'On  the  Grampian  hills,'  and  so  forth. 
If  this  war  comes  up,  a  decision  in  your  case  might 
hang  fire  for  years." 

"I  don't  give  a  snap  for  the  estate  as  compared 
with  the  honor  of  the  country,"  I  shouted,  and  boy 
like,  meant  it,  too. 

"Pish,  tish,  'an  honest  man,  my  neighbor,  there  he 
stands' — but  we  know  all  about  it." 

I  sulked  behind  and  did  not  join  him  again  until 
evening,  when  we  halted  at  an  inn  for  the  night. 
Then  I  found  that  he  was  simply  having  fun  with 
me,  and  as  soon  as  I  discovered  his  humor,  our  re 
lationship  became  pleasant  enough;  and  so,  by  the 
time  we  reached  the  little  town  of  Ashport,  the  end 
of  our  journey,  we  were  friends. 

The  town  was  old  and  shabby,  and  exceedingly 
aristocratic,  though  the  long-drawn  lawsuit,  but  more 
especially  my  horse,  got  me  into  good  society.  I  had 
no  ready  money,  but  the  tavern-keeper  was  willing  to 


Just  Waiting.  211 

trust — my  horse.  Every  day  or  so  I  would  go  to  the 
courthouse  to  see  what  progress  my  affairs  were  mak 
ing,  and  each  time  was  told  that  they  were  moving 
with  all  the  swiftness  that  circumstances  would  al 
low.  I  could  not  see  why  my  presence  was  required. 
Nothing  was  referred  to  me.  I  asked  Beal  why  he 
came  for  me,  and  he  answered  that  I  might  be  needed 
at  any  moment  to  sign  important  documents. 

There  was  a  round-about  mail  between  Ashport 
and  Nashville,  and  I  wrote  to  Nettie — every  night 
during  the  first  three  weeks,  but  did  not  send  one 
of  the  letters.  But  I  sent  a  letter  to  Mahone,  and  in 
due  time  received  an  answer. 

"As  you  doubtless  know,"  he  said,  "the  war  talk 
is  still  kept  up.  For  the  life  of  me,  I  can't  see  why 
they  want  to  be  so  slow.  Deliberation  is  a  fine  thing, 
Richard,  but  too  much  of  it  has  lost  many  a  battle. 
On  last  Sunday  who  should  drive  out  but  Arabella, 
and  that  'yardstick'  which  the  law  forced  upon  her. 
And  now  something  is  coming.  At  the  dinner  table 
Arabella  says  to  Mrs.  Jackson:  'Aunt  Rachel,  I 
want  to  thank  you  for  the  beautiful  hens  you  sent 
me  some  time  ago.' 

"  'Hens,'  says  Mrs.  Jackson,  in  great  surprise,  'my 
dear,  I  didn't  send  you  any  hens.' 

' '  Arabella  looked  at  me  with  a  smile  that  could  have 
been  stirred  off  into  sugar ;  and  then  it  was  time  foi 
me  to  explain,  which  I  did  immediately.  'Oh,  yes, 
madam,  you  did  send  them,'  I  said  to  Mrs.  Jackson. 
'You  may  not  think  so,  but  surely  you  did.'  And 
then,  adroitly,  I  changed  the  subject — I  says,  'Come 
now,  let  us  talk  of  something  else. '  But  Mrs.  Jackson 
wanted  to  talk  about  those  damned  chickens,  till  at 
last  a  happy  inspiration  saved  me.  I  put  it  all  on 


212  "By  the  Eternal." 

you,  Bichard.  I  said  it  was  a  joke  you  played  on 
Mrs.  Harvey.  'In  the  toughness  of  the  fowls  lay  the 
fun  of  it,'  I  says.  Wasn't  that  a  shrewd  way  to  get 
out  of  it  ?  There  is  an  important  piece  of  news  which 
I  have  neglected  to  set  forth  in  the  foregoing  re 
marks.  It  is  this:  The  plantation  store  at  the  Her 
mitage  has  been  disposed  of,  and  I  am  no  longer  an 
active  force  in  the  great  American  world  of  barter. 
And  thus  you  see,  as  I  predicted,  all  the  copies  of 
my  Tom  Moore  investment  have  been  sold.  The  new 
owner,  a  man  named  Quincey  is  not,  in  my  opinion 
the  author  of  the  Junius  letters.  While  we  were 
taking  stock  I  called  his  attention  to  the  beautiful 
books,  and  with  the  characteristic  comment  that  busi 
ness  has  for  literature  he  said:  'Damn  the  books. 
Count  them  hams. '  Will  he  succeed  ?  He  will.  Why  ? 
Because  he  does  not  deserve  to.  I  am  not,  however, 
to  be  out  of  employment  long.  Soon,  I  am  to  take 
charge  of  the  school,  now  historic  in  your  affections, 
held  in  the  unpretentious  house  beside  the  lane.  It 
is  said  that  some  of  the  youngsters  are  real  students, 
and  if  this  be  true,  it  will  necessitate  a  little  brushing 
up  on  my  part,  for  about  me  there  is  so  little  of  the 
pedant  that  I  forget  my  learning  almost  as  soon  as 
I  have  turned  my  back  upon  it.  If  you  decide  to 
enter  with  me  into  the  commercial  life,  I  can  give  up 
the  school  very  easily.  All  I'll  have  to  do  is  to  turn 
it  loose,  and  it  affords  me  an  opportunity  to  tell 
truth  in  saying  that  this  will  undoubtedly  be  a  great 
pleasure.  It  is  always  a  relief  to  do  something  else, 
no  matter  what  you  may  have  been  doing  previously. 
It  is  thus  that  we  inculcate  diversity  and  make  the 
world  move;  but  I  am  becoming  philosophical,  and 
this  should  be  avoided. 


Just  Waiting.  213 

"The  General  bristles  with  the  spirit  of  the  com 
ing  war.  His  hair  is  on  end.  The  other  day,  after 
having  engaged  in  the  social  amenities  of  the  town, 
he  came  home  with  his  collar  bone  broken,  but  two 
of  his  enemies,  when  they  come  out  again,  will  appear 
on  crutches.  He  could  lend  them  a  few  sets,  includ 
ing  the  long  one  that  the  boy  Andrew  still  rides  about 
the  house.  In  case  of  war  the  General,  as  command 
er  of  the  Tennessee  militia,  will  offer  himself  and 
twenty-five  hundred  men.  It  is  now  understood  that 
Tecumseh,  the  famous  chief,  has  again  visited  the 
Indian  tribes  in  Alabama,  urging  them  to  unite  with 
the  British  against  the  Americans.  If  the  Indians 
should  heed  him,  and  they  undoubtedly  will,  as  he  is 
a  great  organizer,  the  country  may  expect  more 
trouble  from  the  savages  than  from  the  English." 

The  months  dragged  by.  A  decision  was  rendered 
in  my  favor,  which  gave  me  great  pleasure  until  there 
came  a  frown  from  Beal — the  information  that  an 
appeal  had  been  taken.  "But  now  we  are  getting 
down  to  it  in  earnest,"  said  he.  I  thought  so  myself. 
Then  I  asked  him  how  long  it  might  take,  and  he 
seemed  hurt.  "How  long  indeed!"  he  murmured, 
untying  a  bundle  of  papers  and  tying  it  up  again. 
''You  must  know  that  law  is  deliberative,  not  to  say 
solemn."  I  told  him  that  I  thought  it  solemn,  where 
upon  he  seemed  hurt  again. 

Winter  came,  and  the  inn-keeper  began  to  grow 
suspicious — of  my  horse.  But  as  my  case  was  now 
rushing,  having  almost  reached  the  front  door  of  the 
court  above,  I  succeeded  in  borrowing  a  thousand  dol 
lars,  paid  my  bill,  and  received  a  gracious  smile. 
Spring  came,  and  with  it  hot  wind  from  the  blast 
furnace  of  war.  Early  summer,  and  war  was  de- 


214  "By  the  Eternal." 

clared.    I  decided  to  return  at  once  to  Tennessee  and 
to  offer  my  services  to  General  Jackson. 

Beaching  Nashville  in  the  evening,  I  found  the 
"city"  in  the  throes  of  great  excitement.  The  jour 
ney  had  been  long  and  wearisome,  but  there  was  an 
especial  cause  to  keep  me  out  of  bed — General  Jack 
son  was  making  a  speech  on  the  public  square.  In 
the  glare  of  bonfires  and  torches  he  stood  upon  a 
hogshead  of  tobacco,  haranguing  a  great  and  enthu 
siastic  throng  of  citizens.  The  government  had  ac 
cepted  the  offer  of  his  services,  and  he  was  now  call 
ing  for  volunteers.  Amid  the  clamor  I  heard  the  dis 
tant  shout  of  "Arrah,  arrah!"  and  peering  through 
the  crowd  I  saw  Mahone  standing  with  one  hand  rest 
ing  on  the  orator's  persuasive  "pulpit," — a  pulpit  in 
deed,  whence  came  thundering  forth  the  doctrine  of 
Patriotism.  It  required  some  time  and  not  a  little 
force,  but  finally  "edging"  myself  within  reach  of 
the  Irishman,  I  touched  him  on  the  shoulder.  He 
looked  around  and  then  with  a  louder  "Arrah,"  he 
seized  me.  Then  the  General's  eye  fell  upon  me,  and, 
reaching  down,  with  a  pause  in  his  fervid  appeal,  he 
grasped  my  up-raised  hand.  As  soon  as  we  could, 
Mahone  and  I  "wormed"  our  way  out  to  the  edge  of 
the  crowd.  For  a  long  time  we  spoke  but  little  and 
in  low  words,  giving  our  attention  to  the  General's 
speech,  but  when  the  orator  had  closed,  Mahone 
broke  forth: 

.-  "By  the  faith  of  me,  I  expected  you,  and  this  very 
night,  too.  I  don't  know  why,  but  I  did.  Come,  let 
us  go  on  over  to  the  inn  and  be  near  the  General. 
Each  word  he  utters  has  peculiar  significance  for  me 
now — he  is  my  commander,  and  yours." 

As  we  proceeded  toward  the  inn,  I  asked  the  one 


Just  Waiting.  215 

question  nearest  ray  heart.  It  was  vacation  time  and 
I  inquired  if  Nettie  were  at  the  Hermitage.  "The 
news  I  have  for  you  is  bad,  but  I  will  break  it  gen 
tly,  not  to  say  adroitly.  Therefore,  we  will  talk 
about  something  else,  leading  up  to  it.  The — 

"Confound  it,  tell  me,  man." 

"I  will,  then.  She  was  there  until  yesterday  after 
the  school  turned  out,  and  then  she  was  dragged 
away  on  a  visit  to  her  Aunt  'Riah,  the  young  doctor 
having  come  after  her.  She  had  been  talking  to  me 
about  your  coming,  and  a  happier  creature  I  never 
saw,  but  along  had  to  come  that  spalpeen.  She  put 
as  bright  a  face  011  it  as  she  could,  but  I  saw  her  cry 
ing  behind  the  currant  bushes.  Go  ahead,  Richard,  I 
don 't  blame  you  for  cursing  the  luck ;  I  did  it  for  you 
before  you  got  here." 

"Have  you  any  idea  as  to  how  long  they  are  going 
to  compel  her  to  stay?" 

"Until  school  begins  in  September,  and  by  that 
time  we'll  be  far  into  the  war,  if  not  well  into 
eternity.  Don't  grieve,  for  it  is  a  sure  shot  that  she 
loves  you,  and  when  a  man  is  assured  of  a  woman's 
love,  he  oughtn't  to  care  so  much  then  what  becomes 
of  her." 

Out  of  this  "logic"  I  drew  but  little  consolation. 
Love,  loving  is  never  assured  of  love — in  youth,  in 
absence.  It  was  a  trick  of  that  infernal  doctor's. 
He  knew  that  the  beating  of  the  drum  would  call  me 
home. 

At  the  tavern  there  was  much  clamor,  much  drink 
ing.  In  the  bar-room  two  men  sat  at  a  table  taking 
down  the  names  of  volunteers.  Mahone  and  I  were 
soon  enrolled.  The  General  was  so  busily  employed 
here  and  there  that  I  had  but  small  chance  to  talk  to 


216  "By  the  Eternal." 

him,  but  he  requested  me  to  ride  out  home  with  him, 
saying  that  he  would  take  his  leave  about  midnight. 

"I  reckon  that  young  fellow  will  fight,"  said  an 
old  man,  pointing  to  me,  and  the  General  answered: 
"Sir,  I  would  stake  my  existence  on  his  bravery." 

This  made  me  feel  as  proud  as  if  I  had  captured 
a  British  battery.  Numerous  men  came  forward  to 
shake  me  by  the  hand,  as  if  I  had  really  done  some 
thing,  and  for  a  time  I  was  a  hero,  so  great  do  we 
weak  mortals  regard  one  who  stands  in  the  light  of 
authority's  favor. 

It  was  past  midnight  when  we  set  out  for  home. 
Absence  and  imagination  had  rendered  objects  along 
the  road  familiar  to  me,  and  I  looked  for  them.  Here 
and  there  by  the  wayside,  bonfires  were  burning,  and 
in  front  of  the  tavern  where  Mahone  and  I  had  eaten 
supper  just  before  going  to  hear  Cartwright  preach, 
a  man  was  beating  a  war  drum.  The  General  in  high 
spirits,  said:  "I  am  a  stranger  to  the  powers  in 
Washington,  or  if  known  at  all,  better  known  through 
rny  enemies  than  my  friends,  and  the  government's 
ready  acceptance  of  my  services  was  a  surprise  to  me. 
I  did  not  support  Mr.  Madison  for  the  Presidency, 
and  my  friendship  for  Aaron  Burr  stood  against  me. 
Mahone,  to-morrow  morning  you  start  out  and  do 
what  you  can  toward  raising  a  company,  and  you 
shall  have  a  commission  as  captain  of  infantry." 

"Arrah!"  cried  Mahone,  "I'll  start  with  the  first 
peep  of  day,  and  it  is  not  for  me  to  boast,  General, 
but  I  will  merit  the  confidence  and  the  commission. 
No  one  can  love  this  country  more  than  an  Irishman, 
sir — and  no  one  is  more  ready  to  shed  his  blood  for 
any  cause — whether  he  thinks  it's  right  or  not.  In 
fantry!  I  like  to  walk,  and  you  would  see  me  walk- 


Just  Waiting.  217 

ing  now,  but  for  the  fact  that  I  couldn't  keep  up 
with  more  than  one  of  you  at  a  time.  Something  will 
rouse  the  early  bird  from  her  nest  in  the  morning, 
and  it  will  be  no  other  than  myself. " 

The  General  waited  patiently  until  Mahone  was 
done,  and  then  he  said  to  me :  ''And,  Richard,  there'll 
be  need  of  you,  close  to  me.  You  shall  be  on  my  staff, 
with  the  rank  of  captain.  Governor  Blount  will 
make  out  the  commissions  at  my  request,  to-mor 
row.  ' ' 

My  much-praised  horse  had  never  seemed  so  high 
before.  On  him  I  was  trotted,  just  beneath  the  stars. 
1  do  not  know  what  extravagant  words  of  gratitude 
I  uttered,  in  the  emotion-blindness  that  had  fallen 
into  my  eyes,  there  in  the  darkness. 

The  next  morning  Mahone  aroused  me  before  day 
light.  "I  hope  I  find  you  well,  Captain,"  he  said 
when  I  had  lighted  a  candle.  "Begorry,  it  was  little 
I  slept,  but  it  makes  a  great  deal  of  difference  in  a 
man's  feelings  when  he  hasn't  slept  much  and  gets 
up  before  day,  what  he  gets  up  for.  No  matter  how 
well  he  might  have  slept  he  wouldn't  feel  well,  get 
ting  up  to  be  hanged,  but  you  and  I  get  up  for  great 
purposes,  Richard,  and  the  lark  in  the  dew  is  no 
fresher  than  I." 

The  General  was  astir  early,  too,  and  we  ate  break 
fast  by  candlelight.  Mrs.  Jackson  made  no  pretense 
of  deploring  the  coming  of  war;  she  was  pleased  be 
cause  her  husband  was  delighted.  At  the  table  he 
beamed  upon  us,  like  one  inspired  with  a  great  mis 
sion,  and  surely  it  was  his  conviction  that  he  had 
been  appointed  by  a  higher  power  than  the  govern 
ment  at  "Washington.  On  his  long  crutch  the  boy 
Andrew  rode  to  the  table,  now  no  longer  a  mere 


218  "By  the  Eternal." 

race  horse  but  a  war  steed.  Outside  the  roosters  were 
crowing  war,  and  the  birds,  when  the  day  grew 
lighter,  twittered  their  call  to  arms. 

History  proves  that  republics  are  rarely  prepared 
for  war.  Where  there  is  much  liberty  there  is  also 
much  blind  faith  in  the  justice  of  the  cause.  Equip 
ment  decides  battles,  and  the  justice  of  the  unfor 
tunate  cause  is  afterward  pointed  out  by  the  states 
man  as  a  warning.  But  Tennessee  was  better  pre 
pared  than'  almost  any  other  state,  not  because  she 
had  an  organized  militia,  but  because  nearly  every 
man  was  a  sharpshooter.  The  farmer  that  shot  a 
squirrel  in  the  body  rather  than  in  the  head  was  ac 
counted  a  poor  marksman.  But  with  all  the  drum 
beating  and  the  rapid  enrollment  of  the  men,  real 
progress  was  slow;  not  from  any  lack  of  incentive  at 
home,  but  due  to  the  sloth  at  Washington.  The  Ten 
nessee  troops  were  expected  to  furnish  their  own 
small  arms  and  clothing — their  own  horses,  in  fact — 
but  the  government  was  negligent  in  providing  artil 
lery,  ammunition  and  tents.  Hull  had  disgraced  his 
country  with  his  cowardice,  the  shameful  surrender 
at  Detroit,  and  throughout  the  North  there  was  the 
deepest  melancholy.  In  the  South  the  great  Indian 
tribes,  the  Cherokees  and  the  Creeks,  stood  ready  to 
murder  the  whites,  by  this  time  persuaded  by  Tecum- 
seh  and  his  brother,  the  Prophet,  to  espouse  England. 
Europe  was  shaking  with  Napoleonic  ague.  The 
world  was  groaning,  and  little  thought  was  given  by 
the  Northern  press  to  the  ambitions  of  a  backwoods 
General  of  raw  militia,  clamoring  for  a  sight  of  the 
enemy.  Jackson  had  succeeded  in  enrolling  more 
than  two  thousand  men,  a  great  army  considering  the 
thinness  of  the  settlements  lying  among  the  hills  re- 


Just  Waiting.  219 

mote  from  the  river.  At  last  encouraging  word  came 
from  the  Secretary  of  War,  and  an  order  was  issued 
for  a  "massing"  of  the  troops  in  Nashville,  early  in 
December. 

Mahone  's  activity  had  not  surprised  me ;  I  had  an 
ticipated  it,  but  I  was  astonished  at  his  executive 
force.  He  not  only  raised  one  hundred  men,  but  soon 
fashioned  them  into  the  best-drilled  company  in  the 
regiment.  Colonel  Coffee,  of  the  cavalry,  who  had 
taken  to  wife  one  of  the  numerous  nieces  of  Mrs. 
Jackson,  remarked  one  day  to  the  General:  "It 
doesn't  seem  possible  that  your  Irish  captain  is  the 
same  man  that  used  to  sit  about  the  store.  Why, 
this  fellow  has  genius." 

"Ah,"  the  General  replied,  "genius  deprived  of  alt 
opportunity  is  like  a  candle,  unlighted;  and  there 
are  times  when  it  can  no  more  make  opportunity 
than  a  candle  can  furnish  its  own  lire." 

Mahone 's  commission  and  mine  also  had  been  made 
out  and  signed  by  the  governor.  Mrs.  Jackson  super 
vised  the  making  of  our  uniforms,  and  we  were  two 
of  the  most  gorgeous  men  in  the  army.  The  Irishman 
loved  the  parade,  the  panoply  of  war,  and  one  after 
noon  as  we  were  walking  about  in  the  yard,  casting 
glances  down  the  road  toward  Nashville,  longing  for 
the  call  to  battle,  he  turned  upon  a  rooster  that 
thought  to  outstrut  him:  "Aroint  you  fop,  or  I  will 
pull  out  your  tail  to  adorn  my  hat." 

Had  he  been  furnished  with  a  pretext  he  would 
have  worn  the  entire  chicken.  "When  you  go  in 
swimming, ' '  said  he  ' '  take  off  your  clothes,  but  going 
to  war,  put  on  gilt  and  brass.  It  is  a  part  of  the 
game.  There  have  been  commanders  noted  for  their 
slouchiness,  but  as  a  general  thing  the  dressiest  sol- 


220  "By  the  Eternal." 

dier  is  the  best.  I  was  anxious  for  Arabella  to  see 
me  in  my  regimentals,  but  bethought  myself  that  I 
ought  not  to  excite  her  regret.  Ah,  and  with  the 
women  it  takes  a  fast  bolt  of  silk  to  run  a  race  with 
shoulder  straps.  If  the  elf  could  only  see  you  now, 
Richard,  she  would  forget  her  duty  to  the  spalpeen. 
Have  you  written  to  her  since  you  came  back?" 

"No,  it  wouldn't  be  wise." 

"Wise  is  it?  In  love  with  a  girl  and  expect  to  be 
wise !  You  can 't  be  both  at  the  same  time. ' ' 

' '  Why,  the  doctor  or  her  Aunt  'Riah  would  be  sure 
to  see  the  letter,  intercept  it,  no  doubt,  and  that 
would  make  it  unpleasant  for  her." 

"You  are  right.  A  man  cannot  be  wise  and  in 
love,  but  sometimes  he  may  love  and  be  right.  The 
weather  is  turning  cold,  do  you  notice?  And  to 
morrow  we  meet  in  grand  review.  I  wrish  the  enemy 
were  in  front  of  us  and  it  was  an  order  to  fire. ' ' 

That  night  there  came  the  heaviest  fall  of  snow 
that  had  been  known  since  the  settlement  of  the  coun 
try.  Shelter  could  not  be  furnished  for  the  troops 
in  the  town,  and  so,  poorly  provided  as  they  were, 
they  camped  on  the  common.  A  thousand  cords  of 
wood  were  burnt  to  keep  them  from  freezing.  The 
General  set  the  example  and  the  officers  remained 
with  the  men.  Among  these  hardy  pioneers  there 
was  no  complaint,  except  that  there  was  no  enemy  to 
be  encountered.  On  the  morning  after  this  desperate 
night,  the  General  entered  the  inn  where  a  number 
of  "civilians"  were  sitting  about  the  fire.  One  of 
them,  a  red-faced  drover,  was  expressing  his  opinion 
at  the  time,  and  evidently  he  did  not  know  Jackson  by 
sight. 

"What  a  shame  it  is,"  he  said,  "that  those  poor  fel- 


Just  'Waiting.  221 

lows  had  to  suffer  in  the  cold  out  there  all  night  while 
the  officers  were  tucked  up  in  bed. ' ' 

"You  infernal  scoundrel,"  the  General  exclaimed, 
"let  me  hear  another  word  out  of  you  and  I'll  teach 
you  what  it  is  to  be  warm.  I  '11  ram  that  red-hot  and 
iron  down  your  throat." 

Every  one  waited,  but  the  drover  was  silent. 

A  number  of  flat  boats  had  been  constructed,  and 
before  noon,  the  troops  were  embarked  for  Natchez, 
by  water  eight  hundred  or  a  thousand  miles  distant. 
Colonel  Coffee  with  his  cavalry  proceeded  by  land. 

"The  luck  of  him,"  Mahone  remarked.  "He'll  be 
sure  to  get  into  a  fight,  while  we  can  do  nothing  but 
float  safely  down  the  river." 

Jackson  was  a  patriot,  as  the  world  knows,  but  he 
was  also  a  man — a  human  being.  It  was  his  determi 
nation,  in  the  absence  of  explicit  orders,  to  disembark 
at  Natchez  rather  than  to  proceed  to  New  Orleans. 
General  Wilkinson  was  commander  of  the  forces  oc 
cupying  the  Crescent  City,  and  he  and  Jackson  were 
not  friends.  Reporting  to  him  would  have  chilled  old 
Andrew's  soul,  besides,  no  enemy  had  been  seen  on 
the  southern  coast.  It  was  our  hope  to  encounter  the 
Indians  and  the  English  somewhere  in  Mississippi. 

Our  quarters  at  Natchez  were  comfortable  enough, 
but  as  the  impatient  General  remarked,  as  we  waited 
for  orders  to  march  into  the  interior,  we  were  com 
fortable  at  home.  One  day  he  wrote  to  the  War  De 
partment,  almost  demanding  service,  submitting  a 
plan  for  leading  his  men  against  the  Canadians.  How 
anxiously  he  waited  for  an  answer!  I  well  recall 
the  morning  it  came.  I  never  saw  him  more  excited 
than  when  he  received  the  paper.  He  ripped  it  open, 
and  then  I  had  to  turn  my  face  away.  I  could  not 


222  "By  the  Eternal.'9 

endure  that  suffering  countenance.  The  order  was, 
in  short,  that  the  troops  were  not  needed,  that  they 
should  be  disbanded  immediately,  and  that  the  muni 
tions  should  be  turned  over  to  General  Wilkinson. 
It  was  soon  known  throughout  the  camp  that  the 
news  was  bad;  and  it  was  soon  understood,  too,  that 
the  peremptory  order  was  not  to  be  obeyed,  except  in 
part. 

' '  Disband  my  men  here  and  let  them  wander  home 
like  sheep !  In  Washington,  they  must  take  me  for 
an  idiot.  Turn  my  guns  over  to  Wilkinson !  By  the 
Eternal!  he  shall  not  have  one  of  them." 

But  it  required  money  to  move  even  this  little 
army.  We  had  floated  down,  but  we  couldn't  float 
up,  and  the  boats  were  therefore  useless.  The  men 
were,  many  of  them,  in  need  of  shoes,  and  for  the 
sick  transportation  was  required.  To  the  merchants 
of  the  town  Jackson  pawned  his  own  word  for  shoes 
and  clothing,  in  the  event  that  the  government  re 
fused  to  pay;  and  so,  one  morning  we  broke  camp 
and  sadly  marched  toward  home,  five  hundred  miles 
distant  by  land.  The  horses  were  needed  for  the 
sick.  The  General  walked,  striding  in  advance,  and 
it  was  at  this  time  that  to  him  was  given  the  nick 
name  of  Old  Hickory,  the  latter  because  he  was  so 
tough,  and  "old"  because  the  men  looked  upon  him 
as  their  father,  facts  set  forth  in  history,  and  the 
"lives"  written  of  this  remarkable  man. 

On  the  way  we  met  a  modification  of  the  perempt 
ory  order  to  disband,  but  nothing  was  said  about  ex 
penses  or  the  payment  of  the  soldiers,  who  for  their 
services  and  their  hardships  had  not  received  a 
penny. 

Mahone  was  crushed.     "It  is  a  death  blow  to  all 


Just  Waiting.  223 

hope,"  he  said  to  me  one  night  as  I  sat  with  him  in 
his  improvised  tent.  "The  President  and  all  the 
secretaries  at  Washington  are  a  lot  of  kittens  with 
their  eyes  not  open.  The  idea  that  such  men  as  these 
not  being  needed  at  a  time  of  war!  What  is  war 
getting  to  be?  A  'good  morning  to  you,'  the  drink 
ing  of  a  glass  of  skimmed  milk,  and  the  yawning  and 
stretching  and  gaping  of  one  wasted  day  into  an 
other  ?  I  am  now  fully  convinced  that  I  was  intended 
for  a  soldier,  but  along  conies  Fate  and  befuddles  her 
own  design." 

In  such  lamenting  was  shown  the  spirit  of  every 
man,  in  bivouac  by  night  and  in  weary  march  by 
day.  It  seemed  an  army  returning  -from  defeat ;  and 
when  at  last  we  marched  into  Nashville,  the  cheering 
of  the  people  fell  as  taunting  mockeries.  Drawn  up 
in  order,  we  were  compelled  to  listen  to  welcoming- 
addresses,  to  hear  such  empty,  such  humiliating 
words  as  "our  gallant  volunteers — our  brave  sons." 
The  ladies  had  made  for  us  a  silken  banner,  pictured 
with  scenes  of  victory;  and  we  accepted  it,  the  flag, 
the  lies  tapestried  upon  it,  and  hung  our  heads. 
There  was  now  nothing  to  do  but  to  go  home,  and  so, 
we  were  disbanded. 

Together,  Mahone  and  I  rode  out  toward  the  Her 
mitage,  and  now  I  did  not  care  to  look  upon  ob 
jects  that  absence  and  imagination  had  rendered 
dear  and  familiar  to  my  dreams.  "The  world  may 
stagger  along  a  few  days  more,"  said  Mahone,  "but 
I  doubt  it.  It's  wheezing  for  breath.  A  nag  was  it 
they  gave  us?  Why  didn't  they  bring  us  out  a  rusty 
chain  forged  in  Birmingham?  And  I  am  now  to 
throw  off  this  cocked  hat,  and  set  in  its  place  the  dull 
and  dusty  cap  of  the  schoolman.  I  am  to  prate  to 


224  "By  the  Eternal." 

the  children  about  patriotism  when  the  government 
hasn't  any  more  than  could  flounce  about  in  plenty 
of  room  on  the  point  of  a  pin.  Ah,  Arabella,  you 
were  wise  in  marrying  a  man  of  the  times.  And  if 
he  sells  a  few  more  bolts  of  silk  this  year,  I  have  no 
doubt  they  will  make  him  Secretary  of  War  the 
next." 

Upon  arriving  at  the  Hermitage  I  found  a  letter, 
calling  me  back  to  Virginia. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

NEWS  THAT   WAS  NOT  GOOD. 

MY  cause  had  progressed.  It  had  been  taken 
to  a  higher  court,-  had  actually  succeeded  in 
obtaining  recognition.  The  judges  did  not 
know,  of  course,  that  it  had  arrived,  but  the  lawyers 
were  aware  of  the  fact.  This  higher  court  sat  in 
Richmond,  and  to  that  city  I  took  my  way,  and,  upon 
arriving,  plunged  into  dissipation — went  to  a  theater. 
The  play  was  Macbeth,  and  although  there  was  some 
prejudice  against  it,  having  been  written  by  an  Eng 
lishman,  yet  the  ill  feeling  largely  subsided  when  a 
man  came  before  the  curtain  and  stated,  on  behalf  of 
the  management,  that  the  author,  though  a  Britisher, 
had  died  long  before  there  arose  any  trouble  between 
England  and  America. 

"He  was  a  Monarchist,"  some  one  shouted. 

It  was  admitted,  on  the  part  of  the  management, 
that  this  might  be  true.  "But,"  the  speaker  pro 
ceeded,  "in  his  plays  he  made  kings  kill  one  another, 
and  this  was  about  as  good  a  service  as  he  could  have 
rendered  America." 

The  interrupter  withdrew  his  objections,  the 
candles  were  snuffed  and  the  play  proceeded.  Lawyer 
Beal,  who  sat  beside  me,  wanted  to  talk  about  my  af 
fairs.  But  I  was  living  in  another  world;  a  world 
that  will  be  real  when  many  a  hard  reality  of  this 
world  shall  have  passed  away,  when  the  conqueror's 
cannon,  in  the  distant  future,  shall  have  been  blown 

225 


226  "By  the  Eternal" 

away — dust;  when  knowledge,  a  proper  understand 
ing  among  men,  shall  forever  do  away  with  war. 

Along  toward  the  end  of  the  drama  a  man  who  sat 
next  to  Beal  became  much  excited.  "They  can't 
whip  old  Macbeth,"  said  he.  "He's  as  mean  as  the 
devil,  but,  like  the  devil,  he  will  come  out  on  top." 

"McDuff  kills  him,"  Beal  answered. 

"Bet  you  ten  dollars  he  don't,"  bristled  the  man. 
' '  He  can 't — he  hasn  't  ^ot  the  force.  Why,  Macbeth 
is  twice  as  strong." 

"But  my  friend,"  Beal  laughed,  "it  is  written  that 
McDuff  must  kill  him  in  the  end." 

"I  don't  care  how  it's  written — I'm  looking  at  the 
men,  and  I  want  to  tell  you  that  I  know  men  when  I 
see  them."  . 

When  the  final  scene  came,  with  McDuff  bearing 
the  head  of  the  tyrant,  Beal's  neighbor  cried  out: 
"Jugglery,  sir.  That's  some  other  fellow's  head." 
*  That  night,  in  bed,  I  thought  of  the  play  more  than 
of  my  own  affairs,  and  I  was  still  musing  over  it  the 
next  morning  at  breakfast,  when  Beal  came  to  drive 
me  about  the  city.  The  lawyer  assured  me  that  my 
case  would  be  rushed.  The  docket  was  about  clear 
and  there  was  no  cause  for  delay.  Had  I  been  wiser, 
I  could  have  told  him  that  causes  for  delay  made  no 
difference  since  delay  without  cause  was  a  privilege 
inherited  from  the  first  bench  set  up  by  man. 

One  morning  I  was  pleased  to  receive  a  bulky  letter 
from  Mahone.  He  addressed  me  as  ' '  Dear  Captain. ' ' 
But  his  news  was  not  pleasant.  "The  General  is  in 
his  normal  condition,"  said  he,  "in  bed  and  shot  full 
of  holes.  Business  being  dull,  he  had  a  little  dif 
ficulty  with  his  friends,  Thomas  H.  Benton  and 
brother.  I  say  friends  because  they  had  been  such. 


News  That  Was  Not  Good.  227 

If  it  hadn't  been  for  Benton's  persistent  activity, 
the  General  would  have  had  to  pay  for  those  supplies 
in  Natchez,  and  all  of  the  expenses  of  bringing  the 
army  home,  but  that  made  no  difference — the  time 
was  in  bloom  for  fight  and  it  had  to  come.  The  Gen 
eral  and  Colonel  Coffee,  and  he  has  a  keen  relish  for  a 
row,  too,  let  me  tell  you,  met  the  Bentons  at  the  inn, 
and  as  the  affair  had  been  properly  led  up  to,  the  en 
gagement  opened  with  derringers,  pistols  of  more 
polite  and  smaller  caliber,  suitable  for  spring  wear, 
and  with  dirks  intended  for  hot  summer  weather. 
Everybody  was  down  at  one  time  or  another,  and  if 
it  hadn't  been  for  the  failure  of  a  pistol  to  fire  now 
and  then  the  undertaker  would  have  been  kept  busy. 
When  the  smoke  cleared  away,  it  was  found  that 
among  the  other  calamities  the  General  was  badly 
wounded,  left  shoulder  broken  among  other  visita 
tions  of  cuts  and  bruises.  Those  Bentons  can  shoot 
hard.  And  so  the  General  is  in  bed,  and  Mrs.  Jack 
son  is  reading  to  him  about  Joshua,  commanding  his 
men,  if  they  were  willing  to  fight,  to  get  down  and 
lap  like  dogs.  She  wanted  to  read  something  about 
Lazarus,  but  he  declared  that  he  hadn't  time  for  that, 
just  at  present.  It  struck  me,  however,  that  he  had 
about  all  the  time  he  could  use.  His  disability  comes 
inopportunely.  The  Creek  Indians  are  more  restless 
than  ever,  and  more  than  likely  we  shall  be  ordered 
out  again  very  soon.  But  what  will  it  avail  you  and 
me  if  the  General  is  not  able  to  take  command'/  I 
spoke  to  him  about  it,  and  he  said,  'By  the  Eternal, 
sir,  I'll  be  there.  Don't  you  fret.  Let  them  put  it 
off  for  a  month  and  I  will  ask  no  other  odds.'  I 
asked  him  how  long  it  usually  took  him  to  get  well. 
Before  he  answered,  Mrs.  Jackson  came  in  to  blow 


228  "By  the  Eternal" 

the  ram's  horns  about  the  walls  of  Jericho  for  him, 
and  so  I  got  out,  having  heard  those  horns  till  I  could 
recognize  them  if  blown  at  night  with  a  pack  of 
hounds  following.  Now,  my  advice  to  you  is  this: 
Get  back  here  as  soon  as  you  can,  for,  unless  all  signs 
fail,  something  is  going  to  happen. ' ' 

After  reading  this  letter,  I  asked  Beal  if  he  thought 
that  my  remaining  would  have  any  influence  toward 
hastening  the  proceedings  of  the  court,  and  failing 
to  see  the  point  of  my  shrewd  joke,  he  answered: 
"Why,  sir,  the  presence  of  the  Governor  himself 
could  have  no  such  influence." 

' '  In  that  event  I  shall  return  at  once  to  Tennessee, ' ' 
said  I.  ' '  And  in  the  years  to  come,  when  gray-haired 
and  toothless,  I  hobble  back  here  on  crutches,  you 
may  be  able  to  tell  me  something  definite." 

He  argued  against  my  leaving;  he  said  that  while 
my  remaining  could  have  no  possible  bearing  on  the 
court,  yet  it  might  weigh  upon  the  general  atmos 
phere  of  the  cause.  In  the  absence  of  any  possible 
reason,  this  might  have  been  a  good  thing  to  say,  since 
more  than  half  of  what  we  utter  in  this  life  is  mean 
ingless,  but  it  could  not  restrain  me  from  my  pur 
pose.  I  know  now  what  my  nearness  to  the  scene  of 
the  decision  meant  to  him,  that  he  would  earlier  get 
his  share  of  the  "clean  up." 

Again  I  was  on  the  road.  In  every  little  news 
center  along  the  highways  men  discussed  the  desper 
ate  state  of  our  affairs,  and  in  a  village  one  night  I 
was  enraged  to  hear  a  public  speaker  declare :  ' '  This 
sand  rope  known  as  the  United  States  has  about  had 
its  day.  Nearly  all  its  days  have  been  dark,  but  a 
darker  one  is  soon  to  come.  The  great  men  who 
brought  about  the  Revolution  have  nearly  all  of  them 


News  That  Was  Not  Good.  229 

passed  away,  leaving  us  weaklings  to  revert  tocthe 
King  of  England,  our  original  owner."  Such  was 
the  melancholy  opinion  held  in  some  parts  of  the 
South  and  largely  throughout  the  North.  Disaster 
after  disaster  would  naturally  weaken  a  people's 
spirit,  but  in  the  North  it  was  not  disaster  that 
aroused  a  loud  clamor  against  the  war;  it  was  the 
loss  of  commerce.  A  convention  at  Hartford  prayed 
for  peace  at  any  price;  but  committees  lying  remote 
from  the  sea  did  not  beg  for  peace.  About  the  time 
the  Hartford  convention  was  supplicating  the  loud 
est,  the  Tennessee  Legislature  was  passing  an  act  for 
the  appropriation  of  money  to  equip  Andrew  Jack 
son's  army. 

I  found  the  General  sitting  up,  with  that  active 
cavalryman,  the  boy,  riding  about  him  on  his  crutch 
horse.  The  bullet-shattered  man  arose  to  greet  me, 
and  then  dropped  back  in  his  chair.  I  remarked, 
with  all  the  enthusiasm  I  could  draw  from  a  reservoir 
not  well  supplied,  that  I  was  surprised  to  see  him  so 
nearly  recovered,  and  grimly  smiling  he  answered: 
"Captain,  I  shall  be  ready  when  the  troops  are.  This 
time,  by  the  Eternal,  this  time,  it  is  not  to  be  a  mean 
ingless  march,  and  the  presentation  of. an  unearned 
banner;  this  time  it  means  blood,  for  I  shall  march 
into  the  enemy's  country.  We  no  longer  lack  an  in 
centive.  Look  at  the  massacres  by  the  Creeks.  Get 
into  your  uniform,  sir." 

Into  my  uniform!  Brave  words,  in  few  accents  a 
promise  of  fame. 

Mrs.  Jackson  came  in  to  tell  the  General  that  he 
must  not  sit  up  too  long.  Upon  my  arrival  she  had 
greeted  me  as  a  mother  greeting  a  son,  with  tender- 


230  "By  the  Eternal." 

ness;  and  as  I  turned  toward  Jackson's  room  she  had 
cautioned  me  not  to  say  anything  to  "stir  him." 

"Why,  my  dear,"  he  said,  "the  longer  I  sit  up  the 
stronger  I  feel.  A  man  gathers  most  strength  when 
his  determination  is  exerted  the  most.  Lying  down, 
in  the  position  of  the  vanquished,  we  cannot  feel  very 
determined. ' ' 

"But  it  is  bed  time,  Mr.  Jackson,"  she  gently  per 
sisted.  To  her  he  was  never  a  soldier;  he  was  always 
"Mr.  Jackson,"  her  loving  husband. 

"Mrs.  Jackson,  my  dear,"  he  tenderly — fought, 
for  he  could  not  plead — "it  should  not  be  bedtime 
for  those  who  are  not  sleepy."  But  at  that  moment 
he  caught  sight  of  her  Bible,  and  he  therefore  knew 
that  his  hour  had  come.  I  wondered  as  to  whether 
his  sleeping  potion  was  to  be  the  ram's  horn  or  the 
sling  of  David,  and  as  he  bade  me  stay,  I  waited,  as 
sisting  him  to  bed.  But  he  asked  for  neither  the 
horn  nor  the  sling.  His  mind  was  dwelling,  no  doubt, 
upon  some  tardy  official  in  Washington,  and  he  there 
fore  requested  the  hanging  of  Haman.  He  listened 
to  the  reading  as  a  child  listens  to  a  fairy  story, 
thrilled  by  every  detail.  "Ah,"  he  said  when  his 
wife  had  ceased  to  read,  "in  another  book  scarcely 
less  immortal  there  is  this  warning :  '  Heat  not  a  fur 
nace  for  a  foe  so  hot  that  it  do  scorch  yourself.'  I 
can  sleep  now." 

A  moment  later  he  was  asleep,  and  we  tip-toed  out 
into  the  sitting-room.  Knowing  that  Mrs.  Hilliard's 
Academy  for  Young  Ladies  had  again  called  to  books, 
to  an  attempt  to  walk  "like  the  president,"  I  asked 
Mrs.  Jackson  if  Nettie  came  out  every  Saturday 
night. 

' '  Why, ' '  she  answered,  ' '  they  have  sent  her  to  some 


News  That  Was  Not  Good.  231 

high-sounding  school  somewhere  in  Kentucky.  I  had 
a  letter  from  her  not  long  ago,  and  she  seemed  to  be 
very  much  dissatisfied.  She  wanted  to  come  back 
here — said  she  had  never  been  so  happy  in  her  life  as 
she  was  at  our  house.  When  she  came  here  I  thought 
she  was  to  make  this  her  home,  until  the  time  for  her 
marriage.  Why,  she  is  my  adopted  niece,  but,  of 
course,  'Eiah,  as  Wilbur's  mother,  has  more  of  a 
claim  on  her.  Nettie  told  me  to  say  to  you  that  she 
never  could  forget  you — you  had  been  so  kind  to  her. 
She  said,  too,  that  she  would  come  here  on  a  visit  just 
as  soon  as  possible." 

' '  They  will  not  let  it  be  possible, ' '  I  answered 
bitterly. 

Mrs.  Jackson  did  not  pretend  that  she  misunder 
stood  me.  With  motherly  tenderness  she  looked  at 
me.  "It  is  very  unfortunate, ' '  she  said.  ' ' I  told  the 
child — I  could  not  keep  from  telling  her  that  obedi 
ence  to  the  will  of  others  instead  of  to  the  demands 
of  her  own  heart  would  ruin  her  life.  I  told  her 
that  with  my  first  husband — a  duty  marriage — I  had 
been  worse  than  wretched ;  and  the  poor  child  begged 
me  not  to  tell  her  any  more.  Of  course,  promises  to 
a  dying  mother  ought  to  be  kept  sacredly,  so  far  as 
possible;  but  from  the  deathbed  even  mothers  cannot 
always  look  forward  and  see  what  is  best  for  their 
children.  It  is  deplorable,  but  when  the  time  comes 
Nettie  will  sacrifice  herself." 

"I  cannot  believe  it,"  I  answered.  "It  is  not  in 
human  nature.  She— " 

Slowly  shaking  her  head,  Mrs.  Jackson  shut  me 
off.  "Yes,  it  is  in  human  nature,  my  son;  it  always 
has  been  and  doubtless  always  will  be.  And,  the 
more  character  a  woman  has,  the  more  sacrifice.  Net- 


832  "By  the  Eternal." 

tie  believes,  as  most  girls  do,  I  suppose— and 
as  I  believe — that  love  must  surely  follow  marriage. 
It  is  not  impossible,  is  true  very  often — but — I  think 
I  heard  Mr.  Jackson  calling  me." 

She  hastened  from  the  room,  and  I  went  to  my  bed, 
to  dream  of  Mrs.  Billiard 's  door  knocker,  of  a  cough 
at  the  head  of  the  stairs,  of  willing  lips  coming  to 
meet  mine. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

A  TASTE  OF  FIRE. 

NEXT  day,  I  found  Mahone  in  camp,  chaffing 
because  he  was  not  on  the  march.  "We  are 
waiting  till  the  Creeks  show  they  are  in 
earnest  by  scalping  the  Governor.  This  ought  to  be 
written  down  in  history  as  the  tortoise  war.  Rich 
ard — Captain,  begging  your  pardon,  come  off  here 
with  me.  I  have  something  of  import  to  say  to  you. ' ' 

He  led  me  to  a  tree,  and  beneath  it  we  sat  down. 
With  his  cocked  hat  he  fanned  himself,  and  I  noticed 
that  to  complete  his  military  adornment  he  had  not 
yet  robbed  the  rooster  of  his  tail.  "Captain,"  he  be 
gan,  but  I  cut  in  upon  him.  "Don't  Captain  me. 
Be  your  own  self." 

"Surely,  Richard,  and  glad  of  the  opportunity. 
And  now  this  leads  me  up  to  what  I  was  going  to  say. 
You  know  Harvey — but  of  course  you  do.  Well,  for 
some  time  his  lungs  haven 't  been  acting  up  to  regula 
tions,  and  so  the  doctor  told  him  that  what  he  needed 
to  keep  off  death  was  an  outdoor  life.  And  then 
what  does  Harvey  do?  What  indeed!  He  joins 
the  army  as  a  quartermaster  with  the  rank  of  major, 
and,  begorry,  he  wears  a  uniform  that  makes  mine 
look  like  a  set  of  cast-offs.  Isn  't  that  luck  for  you  ? ' ' 

"But  what  difference  does  it  make?  Why  should 
you  care  how  fine  is  his  uniform?" 

"Why  should  I  care?  Begorry,  he'll  keep  on  till 
he  wins  that  woman's  love.  And  do  you  know  what 

233 


234  "By  the  Eternal." 

I  'm  going  to  do  ?  I  'm  going  to  consult  the  authorities 
as  to  what  is  the  regulation  uniform  for  a  quarter 
master,  and  if  he  has  overdressed  the  part,  I  am 
going  to  make  him  come  out  of  it.  Mind  you,  it  is 
not  patriotism  on  his  account ;  it  is  only  a  make-shift 
to  preserve  his  bellowses.  But  it  gives  Arabella  a 
grand  opportunity — to  stand  in  the  store  as  the  chief 
head  and  supreme  reference  of  the  establishment, 
and  nothing  could  please  her  more  than  that,  for, 
Richard,  when  a  woman  has  once  been  a  widow,  no 
matter  whatever  else  she  may  be,  she  is  business.  I 
went  around  to  the  store  to  buy  something — so  it 
would  seem — and  there  she  was  issuing  orders  like 
the  commander  of  a  division.  She  appeared  to  be 
glad  to  see  me,  and  thus  appealed  to,  I  said  'Madam, 
I  will  be  frank  with  you.  I  have  no  right  to  be  here. ' 
But  did  she  blush?  She  did  not.  She  simply  an 
swered,  with  a  long  bit  of  ribbon  in  her  mouth,  'Oh, 
this  is  a  public  place  and  any  one  has  the  right  to 
come  in,  under  the  constitution  of  the  country,'  she 
says,  and  then  I  answered,  'Oh,  and  if  that  is  the 
case,  Madam,  I  bid  you  good  day. '  And  I  did ;  for  I 
wish  to  say  right  now  that  no  woman  can  throw  the 
constitution  at  me  with  impunity." 

I  could  never  tell  by  Mahone's  manner,  by  the 
tone  of  his  voice,  whether  he  were  in  earnest  or  play 
ing  me  on  his  humorous  line,  like  a  bass;  I  never 
knew  when  he  was  in  real  distress — but  not  even  his 
sorrows  could  be  dark,  for  upon  them  a  whimsical 
light  was  sure  to  fall. 

"Have  you  seen  Atcherson?"  he  inquired,  and  in 
stantly  he  added:  "If  you  haven't  you  will  very 
soon.  Is  he  a  full-fledged  preacher  now?  He  is. 
And  is  he  more  than  that  ?  By  that  same  token  he  is 


A  Taste  of  Fire.  233 

— yes,  a  chaplain  in  the  army,  and  the  first  thing  you 
know  he'll  be  around  to  pray  with  you.  He  came 
around  to  see  me — said  he  was  glad  I  was  in  the  army, 
and  begging  his  pardon  in  advance,  I  says,  'And 
where  the  devil  did  you  expect  to  find  me?' 

"  'Not  at  church,'  says  he,  scoring  one.  Richard, 
I  suppose  you  have  seen  the  order  for  the  grand  rally 
of  the  troops,  at  Fayetteville,  six  days  from  now.  It 
is  more  than  eighty  miles  away,  and  how  the  General 
is  to  ride  horseback  that  far  when  it  is  as  much  as  he 
can  do  to  sit  in  a  rocking-chair,  is  beyond  me." 

"When  the  time  comes,  you  will  find  him  at  the 
head  of  the  troops,"  said  I. 

"That  may  be,"  he  admitted,  "but  it  will  take 
some  pretty  strong  doses  poured  out  of  the  ram's 
horn,  I  arise  the  same  to  remark.  In  the  meantime 
let  us  hope,  and  pray — in  case  Atchersoii  gives  us  the 
opportunity. ' ' 

That  night  I  called  at  Arabella's  house,  and  there 
she  was,  handsomer  than  ever,  I  thought.  Major 
Harvey,  her  husband,  thinking  that  there  was  plenty 
of  time  for  the  fresh  air  cure,  continued  to  remain  at 
the  house.  Out  of  his  bright  uniform  there  came  a 
slight  cough;  and  I  looked  at  Arabella,  but  she  did 
not  appear  to  have  noticed  it.  The  major  said  that 
he  longed  to  be  on  the  march.  There  was  nothing 
particularly  the  matter  with  him,  he  declared.  As  to 
his  lungs — they  were  perfectly  sound;  he  had  been 
confined  too  closely,  that  was  all.  I  did  not  see  any 
thing  in  his  condition  to  excite  alarm,  nor  did  his 
wife,  for  though  very  gentle  with  him,  she  joked 
him  on  his  bearing  as  a  soldier.  Pretty  soon  he  began 
to  fret  over  his  business,  and  then,  becoming  serious, 


236  "By  the  Eternal." 

Arabella  assured  him  that  his  affairs  had  never  been 
more  prosperous,  and  that  under  her  management 
they  would  continue  to  improve.  After  a  time  he 
went  up  to  his  room,  and  I  heard  him  coughing  after 
he  had  gone  to  bed. 

"The  doctor  assures  me  that  all  he  needs  is  a  few 
months  of  open  air  life,"  said  Arabella.  "We — we 
have  been  getting  along  better  of  late,"  she  added, 
recalling,  of  course,  what  she  had  said  to  me  in  the 
garden  at  the  Hermitage.  "Oh,  we  never  did  quar 
rel,  you  understand,  but  he  seems  to  know  me  better 
than  he  did.  I  had  a  letter  from  the  elf.  You  may 
draw  your  own  conclusions  as  to  why  she  wrote  to  me. 
We  were  not  so  well  acquainted,  you  know."  She 
looked  at  me  with  her  old-time  smile.  Then  she 
spoke  of  the  General,  of  Mrs.  Jackson,  of  Atcherson 
— of  every  one  but  Mahone,  nor  did  I  mention  his 
name.  When  I  returned  to  the  camp  the  Captain 
asked  me,  knowing  in  what  direction  my  visit  lay,  if 
she  had  inquired  concerning  him,  and  when  I  an 
swered  that  she  had  not,  he  remarked: 

"His  failing  health  and  that  uniform  have  won 
her,  two  most  potent  factors,  Richard.  A  woman  is 
nearly  always  congenial  with  the  man  she  nurses — 
for  then  she's  got  him  helpless  in  her  hands.  Well, 
out  in  the  field,  I'll  do  all  I  can  for  him  to  cheer  him 
up.  I'll  tell  him  that  after  he's  gone  I'll  not  try  to 
marry  her." 

"No,  Dan,  you  must  never  do  that,"  said  I,  know 
ing  that  it  was  like  him  to  "console"  Harvey  in  that 
way. 

"And  why  not?  Am  I  not  that  generous?  I  will 
show  you." 

At  this  moment,  the  flap  of  the  tent  was  put  aside, 


A  Taste  of  Fire.  237 

and  Captain  Atcherson  entered.  Some  preachers  so 
subdue  themselves  that  you  can  never  tell  whether 
they  are  really  glad  to  see  you  or  whether  their 
smiles  and  tempered  handshakes  are  given  to  all  men 
in  common.  But  Atcherson  appeared  pleased  to  see 
me  again.  Nor  was  it  long  before  he  inquired  as  to 
the  condition  of  my  Virginia  estate.  General  Jack 
son  had  spoken  of  the  amount  involved,  and  with 
that  sum  of  money  a  great  deal  of  good  could  be  ac 
complished  toward  the  betterment  of  man's  condition 
in  the  Western  country.  There  were  many  com 
munities  where  churches  were  needed. 

"And  schoolhouses,  too,  remember,  as  you  go 
along,"  said  Mahone. 

Atcherson  sighed  "and  admitted  that  no  doubt  at 
least  a  few  more  schoolhouses  ought  to  be  built.  Then 
he  asked  me  as  to  the  condition  of  my  soul,  whether 
or  not  I  was  ready — 

"To  meet  the  Creeks?"  Mahone  blurted.  "Be- 
gorry,  yes,  and  we  are  only  waiting  for  the  word  to 
march.  And  now,  Brother  Atcherson,  don't  worry 
over  our  souls.  Or,  if  you  do,  worry  over  the  army 
in  a  lump  and  let  the  individuals  alone.  We  know 
you  are  sincere,  now,  so  don't  fret  about  that;  and 
we  know,  also,  being  men  of  emancipated  understand 
ing,  that  no  man  can  save  the  soul  of  another  man — 
and,  wait  a  moment,  we  know,  too,  that  if  one  man 
tries  to  save  souls  to  make  his  own  shine  brighter — 
why,  it  is  a  sort  of  soul  fame,  a  selfishness.  Forgive 
these  few  remarks,  and  join  us  in  a  bite  to  eat. ' ' 

My  duty  was  not  at  the  camp,  but  at  the  General's 
headquarters — his  bedside;  and  as  the  slow  days 
dragged  along,  it  seemed  that  for  some  time  to  come 
the  sick  room  would  continue  to  comprise  the  scope 


238  "By  the  Eternal." 

of  his  military  activity.  The  regiment  to  which  Ma- 
hone  belonged  was  ordered  to  "mobilize"  with  the 
army  at  Fayetteville,  and  a  few  days  later  the  Gen 
eral  and  his  staff  set  out. 

Up  to  the  very  hour  of  his  departure,  I  did  not  see 
how  it  was  possible  for  him  to  go,  except  in  an  am 
bulance;  but  he  arose  and  dressed  himself  when  his 
horse  had  been  led  around  to  the  steps  of  the  veranda. 
It  was  only  with  the  utmost  difficulty  that  he  could 
walk  out  of  the  bedroom;  but  when  we  had  helped 
him  on  his  horse  he  seemed  suddenly  to  gain  strength. 
Still  he  looked  a  sorry  conqueror,  with  his  left  arm 
in  a  sling  and  a  bandage  about  his  head.  He  rode, 
though,  like  a  warrior,  erect  and  grim;  but  with  all 
his  determination  he  could  not  reach  Fayetteville  at 
the  appointed  time,  so  he  wrote  an  address  to  the 
troops  and  sent  it  forward  by  Major  John  Reid  and 
myself  to  be  read  to  them.  Like  the  Romans,  Old 
Hickory  believed  in  haranguing  his  men,  and  not  in 
frequently,  he  seemed  to  forecast  the  possibilities  of 
success  by  the  force  which  had  shown  in  his  "docu 
ment,"  as  the  soldiers  termed  his  military  effusions. 

Major  Reid  "addressed"  the  troops,  and  there  was 
much  cheering.  Reports  had  already  been  received, 
announcing  that  a  large  body  of  Creek  warriors  and 
renegade  whites  were- marching  upon  us,  and  this  put 
the  men  in  high  spirits.  Coffee,  now  a  General,  com 
manding  the  cavalry,  had  already  captured  and  de 
stroyed  an  Indian  village,  killing  in  the  operation,  a 
number  of  warriors;  and  Mahone,  still  morbidly  im 
patient  said  to  me:  "Ah,  the  luck  of  that  man. 
Didn't  lose  but  a  few  men,  and  each  of  them  that  was 
killed  stood  a  chance  of  killing  an  Indian!  I  was 
talking  to  Quartermaster  Harvey  to-day,  and  he  gave 


A  Taste  of  Fire.  239 

me  the  unwelcome  assurance  that  there  is  going  to 
be  trouble  about  supplies.  And  it  would  be  just  my 
luck  to  starve  to  death.  Poor  Harvey,  he'll  never  be 
able  to  starve.  His  cough's  getting  worse  all  the 
time.  But  I  haven't  said  anything  to  him  about  my 
generous  resolve.  He  thinks  he's  getting  better.  May 
the  Lord  help  him — and  at  the  same  time  give  him 
the  needed  assistance  toward  getting  supplies  for 
the  army." 

There  was  great  cheering  when  the  General  ar 
rived,  for  additional  information  had  come  assur 
ing  us  that  the  Creeks  in  full  force  were  marching 
rapidly  to  give  us  battle.  The  old  Indian  fighters 
smiled.  Their  Indian  was  not  the  red  man  of  romance, 
but  of  the  real  woods,  the  sneak  and  the  slaughterer. 
They  know,  however,  that  of  all  the  Indians  of  the 
South,  the  Creeks  were  the  most  to  be  dreaded,  being 
the  shrewdest  to  find  advantage  and  the  most  merci 
less  afterward.  The  "alarming  news"  pleased  the 
General.  "Ah,"  he  said,  "the  enemy  having  heard  of 
my  physical  condition  has  most  kindly  consented  to 
assist  me  in  cutting  short  the  distance  between  us." 

But  a  forced  march  of  many  miles  failed  to  bring  us 
within  sight  of  the  enemy.  The  accounts  of  his  dis 
position  to  accommodate  the  General  had  been  over 
drawn.  So  we  crossed  the  Tennessee  River,  went  into 
camp  and  waited  for  supplies.  No  matter  what  we 
might  be  doing,  the  next  thing  was  to  wait  for  some 
thing  to  eat. 

There  was  now,  however,  no  doubt  of  the  fact  that 
all  the  Indians  of  the  Southern  border,  having  listened 
to  the  appeal  of  Tecumseh,  were  the  allies  of  Great 
Britain.  The  old  Indian  fighters  knew  that  there 
would  soon  be  work  enough  for  us  to  do ;  nor  was  the 


240  "By  the  Eternal" 

first  task  of  that  work  long  deferred.  But  I  have  not 
essayed  to  write  the  annals  of  this  or  any  other  cam 
paign.  The  Creek  war,  historical  by  many  pens,  is  on 
many  a  shelf;  and  the  Tennessee  Historical  Society 
possesses  a  thousand  letters  written  from  its  battle 
fields.  My  only  object  is  to  give  a  bit  of  character 
here  and  there,  to  recall  to  myself  those  blusterous 
days;  to  dream  in  quiet  over  them. 

Our  first  taste  of  fire  was  the  battle  of  Talladega. 
We  had  been  waiting  for  reinforcements,  and  for  sup 
plies,  of  course.  Neither  had  come.  We  did  not  care 
so  much  for  reinforcements  as  for  refreshments.  The 
General  resolved  to  strike  while  yet  he  had  some' 
little  strength.  Shrewd  white  men  among  the  Indians 
knew  the  weakness  of  his  meager  army;  they  were 
counseling  an  attack  upon  him,  in  his  camp,  and  could 
not  imagine  the  desperation  of  his  attack  upon  a  su 
perior  and  well-fed  force.  And  when  he  did  hurl 
himself  upon  them,  there  was  no  other  conclusion  than 
that  he  had  suddenly  received  large  reinforcements. 
But  the  Creeks  made  a  brave  stand. 

It  was  not  a  great  battle,  it  is  true,  but  to  me  it  was 
a  thrilling  sight.  I  saw  Mahone,  with  his  sword,  cut 
down  Black  Paw,  a  chief.  I  saw  Atcherson  among  the 
men,  exhorting  them — saw  him  seize  a  dead  man's 
musket  and  turn  it  upon  the  enemy.  I  was  near  him 
—I  spoke  to  him  and  he  blushed  as  if  I  had  detected 
him  in  some  worldly  sport. 

One  body  of  our  men,  mistaking  an  order,  began  to 
fallback.  In  a  moment  the  General's  ire  was  up.  He 
had  his  own  way  of  issuing  an  order  or  of  speaking 
a  command.  "Head  those  damned  sheep!"  he  yelled 
to  me.  They  were  easily  "headed."  They  turned 
back  and  did  good  work.  Soon  the  battle  became  a 


A  Taste  of  Fire.  241 

chase  and  then  a  hunt  in  the  hills.  "Improvident 
devils,"  said  the  General,  "why  couldn't  they  have 
been  better  provisioned?  Why,  they  have  devoured 
their  corn  down  to  the  last  peck. ' ' 

Harvey  was  active  in  his  search  for  supplies,  so 
much  so,  it  afterward  developed,  that  he  forged  be 
yond  the  line  of  discretion.  Three  warriors,  springing 
from  ambush,  seized  him.  His  gorgeous  uniform  spoke 
great  words  to  them.  England  would  pay  big  for  his 
scalp.  He  must  be  Jackson  himself.  Tecumseh  had 
told  them  that  the  King  of  Britain  wanted  scalps 
rather  than  prisoners.  Here  was  one  of  greatest  value. 
The  king-chief  would  wear  it  in.  his  belt  at  council. 
There  was  no  time  to  waste.  They  would  kill  the  pris 
oner  and  then  dispute  as  to  who  should  bear  off  the 
trophy,  his  scalp.  At  this  moment  Mahone  came  clam 
bering  over  the  rocks.  In  a  second  he  saw  it  all.  He 
rushed  upon  them.  AYith  his  pistols  he  shot  two  of  the 
Indians.  The  other  one,  with  tomahawk,  turning  sul 
lenly  upon  him,  threw  his  weapon.  The  Irishman 
dodged  it,  and,  as  the  Indian  was  scrambling  to  scale 
a  rock,  sabered  him.  Harvey  was  almost  dead,  they 
had  so  roughly  handled  him.  Atcherson,  who  had  been 
striving  to  lend  his  aid,  and  who  now  came  up,  re 
ported  to  me  what  had  passed. 

"Major  Harvey,  I  hope  I  find  your  health  improv 
ing,  sir,"  said  Mahone. 

' '  Captain  Mahone,  you  have  most  desperately  risked 
your  life  to  save  mine." 

' '  Major  Harvey,  have  you  found  any  cold  roast  beef 
among  the  remains  of  the  enemy?  I  wouldn't  mind 
eating  a  snack." 

"Captain,  I  don't  know  how  to  thank  you." 

' '  Say  grace  over  some  potatoes, ' '  said  the  Irishman. 


242  "By  the  Eternal.'' 

We  had  slaughtered  the  enemy,  but  our  own  loss 
had  been  light.  Great,  though,  was  our  disappoint 
ment  in  not  obtaining  provisions.  After  the  battle 
the  General  issued  an  address. 

"Echo  of  the  ram's  horn,"  said  Mahone  to  me,  as  a 
staff  officer  began  to  read  the  address.  And  then  he 
began  to  wince  under  the  mention  of  his  own  name  for 
conspicuous  bravery.  He  was  recommended  for  pro 
motion,  and  that  night,  when  the  General  had  sent  for 
him  he  entered  the  tent  like  an  embarrassed  boy. 

"Captain  Mahone,"  said  the  General,  "your  com 
mission  as  Colonel  will  soon  be  on  the  road  to  meet 
you." 

"Begorry,  I  thank  you,  sir.  And  it  is  fine  weather 
we  are  having." 

"Your  rescue  of  Major  Harvey,  to  say  nothing  of 
your  other  acts  of  gallantry,  was  most  brilliant,  sir. ' ' 

"The  major  and  I  are  old  friends,  sir — we  used  to 
board  at  a  place  where  we  had  more  to  eat  than  we 
have  now,  not  only  when  there  was  company,  but  on 
wash  days  as  well. ' ' 

' '  Captain,  I  hear  of  mutinous  mutterings  among  the 
men — particularly  among  those  whose  term  of  enlist 
ment  has  about  expired.  What  have  you  to  report  ? ' ' 

"This,  sir,  that  the  first  one  of  my  men  that  turns 
his  back  on  you  will  find  a  sword  in  front,  cutting  at 
his  throat." 

' '  I  mean,  have  you  heard  any  complaints  or  the  ex 
pression  of  any  determination  to  march  off  in  a  body  ? 
Mind  you,  there  is  no  fear  of  individual  desertion. ' ' 

"If  there  has  been  such  talk  among  the  men,  Gen 
eral,  it  has  been  kept  from  me.  I  remember  now  hear 
ing  a  sergeant  say  that  no  man  ought  to  be  expected 
to  stay  after  the  expiration  of  his  three  months '  term. 


A  Taste  of  Fire.  243 

of  enlistment.  I  did  not  pretend  to  cope  with  this 
man  in  logic — he  having  made  a  specialty  of  that 
branch  of  learning.  I  always  try  to  avoid  an  argument 
with  a  man  in  his  own  particular  field.  I  remember 
a  professor  of  chemistry  who — 

' '  But  what  did  you  say  to  the  sergeant,  sir  ? " 

"Oh,  the  sergeant.  Why,  I  made  some  casual  re 
mark,  sir,  to  the  effect  that  if  he  continued  to  spread 
such  talk  as  that  I  'd  have  him  shot.  He  saw  that  I  did 
not  care  for  a  polemical  discussion,  and  he  took  it  in 
good  part — said,  as  inoffensively  as  he  could,  that  he'd 
go  home  as  soon  as  he  got  ready ;  and  not  to  be  outdone 
in  good  humor,  I  assured  him  that  the  home  to  which 
he  referred  might  be  the  one  that  man  stayed  away 
from  as  long  as  possible.  And  with  that  we  parted 
never  to  meet  again  on  this  earth,  for  shortly  after 
ward  he  was  drowned  in  the  Tennessee  River,  sir,  and 
I  am  now  reporting  his  death  to  you. ' ' 

Mutterings  among  the  troops  arose  in  loud  threats. 
Hunger  was  their  complaint.  They  had  come  out  to 
fight  and  not  to  starve.  The  officers  assured  them  that 
if  they  remained,  the  General  would  furnish  them  with 
fighting  enough. 

For  the  man  who  was  destined  to  become  the  hero 
of  the  Nation  these  were  desperate  days.  To  the  Gov 
ernor  of  Tennessee  he  wrote  most  piteous  letters,  beg 
ging  for  provisions.  I  can  see  him  now  as  he  stood  on 
a  mountain  top,  gazing  toward  the  land  whence  might 
come  a  wagon  train ;  but  the  days  slowly  limped  away 
and  no  provisions  came.  But  one  day  there  arrived  a 
letter  from  Governor  Blount.  He  was  a  good  corre 
spondent.  He  knew  that  letter  writing  was  an  art, 
and  he  had  cultivated  it.  He  was  a  man  of  varied 
accomplishments,  but  the  knack  of  raising  immediate 


244  "By  the  Eternal." 

supplies  was  not  one  of  them.  In  this  letter  he  said 
that  he  was  sorry.  He  knew  what  it  meant  when  a 
number  of  men  were  hungry.  He  knew  what  he  would 
do;  if  food  were  not  sent  to  him  he  would  repair  to 
some  place  where  it  might  be  had.  Then  he  advised 
the  General  to  disband  the  army,  for  unless  the  volun 
teers  were  accepted  as  soldiers  in  the  pay  of  the  gen 
eral  government,  the  expense  would  soon  ruin  the 
State  of  Tennessee.  Disband  his  troops !  The  General 
refused  to  take  this  advice.  He  would  have  refused 
a  peremptory  order.  He  wrote  again,  one  of  the  most 
pathetic  appeals  ever  sent  from  one  man  to  another. 
In  the  meantime  trouble  broke  out.  The  militiamen 
swore  that  they  would  march  home  in  a  body.  Their 
time  had  expired,  and  besides,  the  weather  was  not 
pleasant.  The  General  appealed  to  the  sentiment  of 
the  volunteers. 

In  an  address  delivered  by  himself  and  in  a  manner 
that  would  have  made  the  fortune  of  an  actor,  he  ap 
pealed  to  their  sentiment.  He  reminded  them  that 
when  the  Secretary  of  War,  of  the  nation  itself,  had 
ordered  him  to  disband  them  at  Natchez  he  had,  at 
the  risk  of  his  own  eternal  ruin,  refused  to  obey  the 
command,  and  had  led  them  home.  Would  they  desert 
him  now  ?  The  volunteers  swore  that  they  would  not. 
They  cheered  the  address.  So,  on  the  following  day 
when  the  militia  formed  in  marching  order  they  found 
the  volunteers  drawn  up  to  oppose  them.  And  there 
was  the  General  with  his  address.  He  called  them 
brave  men,  and  they  were ;  he  said  he  knew  they  were 
hungry,  but,  by  the  Eternal,  he  would  shoot  down 
the  first  and  the  last  man  who  attempted  to  cross  the 
dead  line,  a  mark  not  visible  but  well  understood.  Yes, 
the  militia  were  brave  enough,  but  they  did  not  de- 


A  Taste  of  Fire.  215 

sire  to  die  in  such  a  cause,  so'  they  returned  to  their 
duty.  This  was  most  encouraging.  But  two  nights 
later,  Mahone  came  to  the  General's  tent  with  the  dis 
tressful  news  that  the  volunteers  had  decided  to  march 
home  on  the  following  day.  The  commander  roared 
that  the  last  one  of  them  should  be  shot  down.  Ma- 
hone  admitted  that  this  would  be  just.  "But,  Gen 
eral,"  said  he,  "who  is  going  to  shoot  them?" 

"The  militia,  sir,"  the  General  thundered. 

Then  he  rushed  forth  to  address  the  militia.  He 
told  them  that  the  volunteers  had  kept  them  from 
going  home  Now  it  was  their  turn  to  compel  the 
volunteers  to  remain.  The  militia  cheered.  And  on 
the  following  day  when  the  volunteers  formed  to 
march  off,  there  in  front  of  them  arose  the  militia 
with  their  guns  cocked.  Thus  order  was  again  re 
stored.  But  only  for  a  brief  time.  The  men  were 
almost  starving,  and  hunger  is  a  restless  rebel. 

One  morning  there  came  another  letter  from  Gov 
ernor  Blount.  It  was  courteous  and  graceful,  but  it 
was  something  more.  It  contained  information.  The 
general  government  had  accepted  Tennessee's  offices, 
and  in  due  time  would  pay  the  expenses  of  the  cam 
paign.  Therefore  he  had  ordered  supplies  to  be  for 
warded  with  all  possible  expedition.  When  this  news 
was  communicated  to  the  men  they  cheered,  but 
rather  faintly.  Nearly  every  man  and  many  of  the 
officers  had  resolved  to  return  home  at  once.  Their 
time  had  expired.  They  were  not  strong  enough  nu 
merically  to  march  into  the  enemy 's  country,  and 
soon  they  would  be  unable  to  defend  their  own  posi 
tion.  This  could  not  be  denied.  One  man  swore  that 
he  would  lead  the  way. 

"Then  you  will  lead  the  way  to  hell,"  Old  Hick- 


246  "By  the  Eternal." 

ory  exclaimed.  He  seized  a  musket  and  resting  it  on 
a  horse,  leveled  it  at  him.  The  rebel,  being  a  quick 
thinker,  thought  better  of  it  and  sat  down. 

"Now,"  said  the  General,  "I  have  a  proposition  to 
make.  Wait  two  days  longer  and  if  supplies  do  not 
arrive,  I  will  lead  you  home." 

Then  there  was  cheering. 

Before  sunrise  on  the  following  day  the  General 
was  on  the  hill-top,  gazing  across  the  country.  The 
sun  set,  and  the  supplies  had  not  arrived.  That  was 
an  anxious  night  for  Old  Hickory,  tough  as  he  was. 
Up  and  down  he  walked,  in  front  of  his  tent.  The 
moon  was  shining.  Mahone  and  I  sat  on  a  rock  not 
far  off.  From  a  tent  near  by  there  came  an  occa 
sional  cough. 

' '  Who  is  in  that  tent  ? ' '  Mahone  inquired,  inclining 
his  head. 

"Harvey,"  I  answered. 

"Ah.  He  ought  to  be  at  home.  Why  doesn't  he 
go?" 

"I  heard  the  General  tell  him  that  he  must  go  to 
morrow.  ' ' 

"Begorry,  there'll  be  a  lot  of  them  that  will  go, 
then,  too.  Richard,  I  hate  a  monarchy,  and  yet  in 
time  of  war  republics  are  failures — till  they  are  al 
most  whipped.  They  won't  fight — don't  know  how 
to  get  at  it  until  they  have  both  cheeks  smacked. 
Look  at  that  restless,  almost  deserted  old  hero  out 
there,  walking  up  and  down,  a  lion  with  a  rusty  chain 
about  him." 

"Dan,  I  was  thinking  what  a  change  your  char 
acter  has  undergone  since  I  first  met  you,  a  profes 
sor." 

"My  character  has  not   changed,   Richard.     You 


A  Taste  of  Fire.  247 

were  simply  unable  to  read  it  rightly.  As  a  teacher, 
I  was  always  struggling  to  hold  myself  down;  and 
you  must  know  that  an  Irishman  under  restraint  is  a 
cripple.  Hah,  hear  that  poor  fellow  cough!  The 
Lord  knows  that  I  would  do  anything  for  him  that 
lies  within  my  power." 

"And  he  knows  it,  too,  Dan." 

"Yes,  I  believe  he  does.  The  other  night  he  came 
over  to  my  tent,  took  my  hand  and  wept  like  a  child. 
And  he  said  things  to  me  that  I  can't  repeat  even  to 
myself.  He  spoke  of  the  great  wrong  he  had  done  me. 
Then  I  began  to  bat  my  own  eyes,  I  tell  you,  but  I 
couldn't  see  where  he  had  done  me  a  wrong.  To  be 
sure,  he  had  married  the  woman  I  loved,  and  I  told 
him  that  was  his  right,  that  I  would  have  done  the 
same  thing  myself.  But  he  insisted  that  he  hadn't 
done  so  altogether  in  a  fair  way;  intimated  that  he 
told  her  that  with  me  she  would  have  a  very  hard 
time  of  it,  over  the  wash-tub  probably,  when  I  had 
squandered  her  little  home,  but  that  he  would  put 
silks  on  her,  and  says  I  to  him,  with  the  candle  light 
blurring,  'begorry,  you  have  done  that  same.'  Then 
he  told  me  that  whomever  she  may  have  loved,  she 
didn't  love  him.  He  had  put  laces  on  her  shoulders, 
but  he  couldn't  tie  a  ribbon  about  her  heart.  Men 
can  get  very  close  to  one  another  in  a  tent,  in  the 
light  of  a  candle,  Richard.  They  can  and  no  mis 
take  ;  and  he  said  things  to  me  that  I  shall  not  repeat 
— but  not  the  one  thing  that  I  longed  to  hear,  that  she 
had  confessed  to  him  that  she  ever  loved  me.  Sure 
ly  she  did  not;  and  when  he  has  passed  away  I  shall 
not  renew  my  suit,  for  she  will  be  a  rich  woman  then, 
and  the  judges  and  the  great  men  will  be  reaching 
after  her." 


248  "By  the  Eternal" 

In  the  pocket  of  my  coat  was  buttoned  up  the  letter 
that  Lismukes  had  written  to  Arabella.  But  the  time 
had  not  come,  and  it  remained  buttoned  up.  I  heard 
the  dying  man  cough. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

HAD    BECOME    SOLDIERS. 

THE  General  walked  late,  but  he  was  on  the  hill 
top  at  sunrise.  The  hours  melted  slowly  away. 
Noon,  and  no  provision  train  within  sight.  The 
men  had  their  fires  built,  their  pots  and  pans  ready; 
and  then  began  to  make  ready  with  something  else — • 
their  knapsacks.  When  the  sun  had  set,  the  General 
issued  orders  for  the  march  to  begin  early  on  the  fol 
lowing  day.  There  was  some  growling  but  no  threat 
of  mutiny.  That  night  there  was  hunger  in  the  camp, 
but  the  men  were  cheerful,  and  sitting  about  the  fires 
they  sang  home  songs.  Hearing  continuous  roars 
of  laughter  from  a  group  gathered  about  a  burning 
stump,  I  joined  the  circle,  and  not  long  was  it  before 
I  discovered  the  cause  of  the  merriment.  A  tall, 
graceful  backwoodsman,  the  picture  of  strength  and 
agility,  humorous  with  every  expression  of  counte 
nance,  entertaining  every  moment,  was  telling  stories, 
the  quaintest  I  had  ever  heard.  Of  some  one  near 
me  I  inquired  the  name  of  this  unique  entertainer, 
this  great  character,  for  such  I  instantly  knew  him 
to  be. 

"Davy  Crockett,  the  scout,"  I  was  informed,  and 
though  at  that  time  I  had  not  heard  of  him,  yet  I  re 
quested  an  introduction,  and  felt,  as  I  took  his  hand, 
that  I  was  gripped  by  a  man  destined  to  grasp  the 
great  affairs  of  this  life.  I  shall  not  attempt  to  re- 

249 


250  "By  the  Eternal." 

produce  his  dialect.     Indeed,  it  was  not  a  dialect  so 
much  as  an  accent,  soft  and  musical. 

"Yes,  boys,"  he  said,  "I'll  go  home  if  the  rest  of 
you  do,  though  it  don't  make  much  difference  to  me 
where  I  am — at  home  anywhere  I  find  a  bear  track, 
and  keeping  house  if  I  find  the  bear  himself.  Not 
long  ago  my  boy  wanted  a  cub  bear  for  a  pet,  and  I 
told  him  he'd  better  take  up  with  something  that 
wouldn  't  keep  him  quite  so  busy — that  wouldn  't  make 
him  sweat  so  much  during  the  hot  weather — but  he 
was  hungry  for  bear,  and  when  a  fellow  feels  that 
way,  why,  nothing  else  will  satisfy  him.  So,  I  prom 
ised  him  a  cub  bear,  and  I  always  try  to  keep  my 
promises,  even  to  my  wife  and  children — except  when 
I  'm  in  politics.  On  my  hunfe  I  kept  a  sharp  lookout 
for  a  bear 's  nest,  and  one  day  I  found  one,  in  the  hol 
low  of  a  big  red  oak.  I  looked  in,  delicate  like,  for 
I  wasn't  acquainted  there,  and  discovered  that  old 
Miz  Bear  wan't  at  home.  This  suited  my  purpose 
just  as  well,  fer  I  don't  like  to  kill  a  bear  that's  en 
gaged  in  keeping  house.  There  was  only  one  cub,  a 
mighty  likely  little  fellow;  and  so  I  climbed  up  and 
got  down  into  the  house,  woke  him  up  and  told  him  I 
had  come  for  him.  He  didn  't  appear  to  mind  it  much 
— sorter  boxed  at  me  with  his  paw  and  wanted  to  go 
to  sleep  again,  but  I  told  him  I  reckoned  not.  So  I 
gathered  him  and  climbed  up,  and  just  as  I  stuck 
my  head  out  of  the  hole,  I  saw  old  Miz  Bear  on  the 
ground,  looking  up  at  me.  I  had  left  my  gun  out 
side,  and  while  I  am  right  sociable  with  a  knife,  I 
don't  like  to  use  it,  especially  when  a  bear  has  taken 
it  into  her  head  that  her  duty  to  her  family  demands 
that  she  shall  squeeze  me  to  death  before  I  can  use  it. 
It  was  she  bears,  you  may  have  heard  your  mothers 


Had  Become  Soldiers.  251 

and  wives  read  about,  that  the  old  prophet  'Ligy  or 
'Lisha — I  always  get  'em  mixed — called  on  to  help 
him  with  the  children  that  made  fun  of  his  bald 
head.  He  knew  what  sort  of  bears  he  was  calling  on, 
ior  he  was  a  wise  man  and  was  possessed  of  a  good 
deal  of  experience.  Well,  I  looked  at  old  Miz  Bear 
and  she  looked  at  me,  but  neither  on  my  part  nor  on 
hern  was  there  a  sign  of  recognition.  It  was  clear  to 
be  seen  that  we  had  never  met  before.  I  said  to  her, 
'Madam,  if  you'll  give  me  the  opportunity  I'll  bid 
you  good  day.'  But  she  just  kept  on  looking  at  me. 
About  this  time  something  hit  the  ground  on  the  in 
side  of  the  hollow.  It  was  a  cub  bear,  and  I  didn't 
think  he  was  intended  for  my  son,  either.  About  the 
time  he  hit  the  ground  he  bawled ;  and  then  I  wanted 
to  see  my  home  worse  than  some  of  you  men  do  this 
minute.  Here  she  came.  There  wasn't  any  way  for 
me  to  compromise  matters.  I  couldn't  use  my  knife 
hanging  there,  so  I  dropped  back  into  the  hollow, 
fell  against  the  side  and  busted  a  hole  through  the 
rotten  shell.  Just  happen  to  hit  it  in  the  right  place. 
But  I  reached  back,  grabbed  up  the  cub  and  away  I 
went — wanted  to  keep  my  word  with  my  boy,  you 
know ;  but  pretty  soon  I  says  to  myself,  '  Now,  mebbe, 
old  Miz  Bear  is  more  attached  to  this  cub  than  my 
son  is.  And  as  betwixt  me  and  the  cub  there  ain't  no 
kin  at  all. '  And  I  dropped  him. ' ' 

Just  at  this  moment  an  orderly  came  up  and  in 
formed  Crockett  that  General  Jackson  desired  to  see 
him.  Shortly  afterward  I  entered  Old  Hickory's 
tent. 

"But,  General,  you  have  given  them  your  word," 
Crockett  was  saying.  "You  must  not  break  it.  The 
men  all  love  you,  but  the  powers  at  home  ain't  treat- 


252  "By  the  Eternal." 

ing  them  right.  There's  too  much  self-interest  and 
politics  behind  us.  Somehow,  we  didn't  get  our  best 
foot  down  first,  and  if  we  ain't  barkin'  up  the  wrong 
tree,  we're  barkin'  mighty  weak." 

"There  is  weight,  sir,  in  what  you  say.  You  are  a 
sort  of  independent  here,  but  Captain  Crockett,  will 
you  remain  at  all  hazards?" 

' '  General,  I  am  a  whig  and  this  is  a  sort  of  a  demo 
crat  war,  but  show  me  an  Indian  that  ought  to  be 
dead  and  I'll  stay  till  he's  shot.  But  my  neighbors 
are  determined  to  go  home.  They  have  more  than 
served  their  time  out;  they  are  tired  of  this  thing 
and  want  to  do  something  else.  You  can't  accuse 
them  of  cowardice." 

"Nothing  is  farther  from  my  thoughts,  sir.  But  I 
tell  you  we  must  stand  our  ground.  Not  only  that, 
we  must  advance.  Our  southern  coast  is  practically 
defenseless — what  little  of  it  we  can  really  call  ours — 
and  the  first  thing  the  government  knows  the  British 
and  Indians  will  be  swarming  across  the  state  line  of 
Tennessee  herself,  sir." 

' '  The  first  thing  the  government  knows !  Why,  of 
course.  The  most  impossible  may  happen  before  the 
government  knows  anything.  Is  that  all  you  wanted 
with  me,  General?" 

"  All !    By  the  Eternal,  isn  't  that  enough  ? ' ' 

"Well,  yes,  I  reckon  it  is — nearly.  But  these  men 
feel  that  they  have  done  their  duty.  And  it  now  re 
mains  for  duty  to  be  done  in  another  quarter.  There 
ain't  nothing  fairer  than  turn  about.  Good  night." 

I  expected  to  hear  the  General  denounce  Crockett 
but  he  did  not.  "There  is  a  man  that  will  do  great 
things,"  said  he,  "but  his  time  is  not  yet  ripe.  Well, 
Captain  Staggs,  to-morrow  morning  we  begin  our 


Had  Become  Soldiers.  253 

ignominious  march;  and  it  was  for  that  that  I  tore 
myself  in  agony  out  of  my  bed.  Yes,  I  will  keep  my 
word  with  them.  Orderly ! ' ' 

A  soldier  stepped  forward  and  touched  his  hat. 
"Has  everything  been  done  to  render  the  transporta 
tion  of  Major  Harvey  as  comfortable  as  possible?" 

' '  Yes,  General — everything. ' ' 

"Very  well.  Captain  Staggs,  will  you  look  after 
him  on  the  way?" 

"Yes,  General,  that  is,  if  I  go." 

"What  do  you  mean,  sir?" 

"I  mean  that  something  might  possibly  turn  up— 
reinforcements;  and  in  that  event  I  shall  ask  permis 
sion  to  remain  here." 

"Ah,  and  do  you  still  hope?  Give  me  your  hand, 
sir.  Come  in  Colonel  Mahone." 

"A  sweet  sound  that  would  have  for  me — Colonel 
— in  the  presence  of  the  enemy ;  but  I  fear  now  that  it 
is  empty.  I  just  met  Atcherson,  and  I  told  him  to 
pray  for  us — while  he  had  nothing  else  to  do.  He 
had  preached  obedience  to  the  men  until  they  left  him 
standing  alone." 

The  General  made  no  answer.  He  strode  out  into 
the  dark,  and  we  heard  him  walking  up  and  down, 
and  we  knew  that  his  mighty  spirit  was  still  battling. 
"1  wonder,"  said  Mahone,  "how  many  military 
geniuses  have  been  snuffed  out  in  that  manner.  Crom 
well  could  have  died  a  brewer's  horse;  Washington 
as  a  surveyor  could  in  obscurity  have  dragged  his 
chain  through  the  woods;  Bonaparte  could  have  re 
mained  an  unheard-of  leftenant  of  artillery,  and  the 
great  Frederic  himself  could  have  rested  under  no 
other  reputation  than  that  his  father  snatched  a  flute 
out  of  his  hand  and  broke  it  over  his  head.  Think 


254  "By  the  Eternal." 

of  how  many  generals  have  died  in  the  cradle,  and, 
for  the  matter  of  that,  how  many  that  never  lived 
at  all.  Doubtless  just  as  great  men  failed  to  be  born 
as  were  born.  Mind  that  now." 

I  told  him  that  he  could  not  long  be  serious.  ' '  Se 
rious  is  it?"  he  replied.  "I  am  the  very  soul  of  se 
riousness  itself.  But  at  the  same  time  I  am  a  specula 
tor;  and,  to  casual  observation,  speculation  never  ap 
pears  serious.  Well,  the  morning  will  tell  a  sad  story, 
I  am  afraid;  am  afraid,  it  will  snuff  out  more  than 
one  military  genius — not  meaning  mine,  of  course, 
but  leaving  Fate  to  draw  her  own  inferences." 

When  the  drums  beat  the  next  morning,  the  men 
more  than  exhibited  their  willingness  to  march.  To 
those  of  us  who  desired  to  remain,  it  seemed  a  shame 
ful  enthusiasm.  The  General  was  yellow  with  sup 
pressed  rage.  He  did  not  issue  an  address.  He  was 
silent.  There  was  no  breakfast  to  be  prepared,  no 
kettles  to  be  washed,  but  rusting  from  lack  of  use 
they  were  thrown  upon  the  wagons.  At  the  first  step 
forward  some  home-sick  youth  lifted  his  weak  voice 
in  song.  The  General  heard  him.  "Stop  that!"  he 
demanded.  "Sing  your  puny  lays  when  you  have 
reached  your  effeminate  fireside." 

Ah,  but  we  had  not  marched  more  than  two  hours 
when  a  thrilling  sight  burst  into  view — a  drove  of 
cattle  coming  over  the  hills  to  meet  us.  Steers  were 
never  more  welcomed.  Cheering,  the  men  rushed  for 
ward  to  meet  them.  Then  there  followed  a  wolfish 
feast.  How  narrow  the  channel  that  separates  civil 
ized  man  from  the  savage !  And  that  channel  is  not 
literature;  it  is  the  belly,  upon  which  Frederick  the 
Great  said,  an  army  moved  like  a  snake. 

When  the  gluttons  had  gorged  themselves,  the  Gen 


Had  Become  Soldiers.  255 

era!  issued  an  address.  He  declared  that  as  they  now 
had  provisions  they  must  return  to  their  duty.  But 
the  leaders  among  them  swore  that  their  duties  were 
at  home.  Their  time  of  service  had  expired.  They 
were  beyond  command,  and  so  the  General  called  for 
volunteers.  He  swore  to  them'  that  the  State  had 
called  for  a  new  army,  which  was  true,  and  that  they 
would  soon  be  honorably  relieved;  but  a  large  ma 
jority  of  them,  declaring  that  as  they  were  now 
private  citizens,  they  were  going  home — and  they  did. 

With  a  few  hundred  men  Jackson  returned  to  his 
former  position.  Out  of  a  company  of  ninety-six, 
Mahone  reclaimed  thirty-four,  a  good  showing  the 
commander  assured  him,  and  he  answered  as  we 
marched  along:  "Pitiful  blackguards,  and  I  shall 
hold  the  rest  of  them  personally  responsible.  And  it 
is  a  good  thing  that  I  hadn't  completed  the  organ 
ization  of  my  regiment  in  furtherance  of  my  com 
mission  as  Colonel.  I  would  have  had  my  hands  full 
of  personal  responsibility,  for  Richard,"  he  said  to 
me,  "some  day  I  expect  to  thrash  each  one  of  those 
fellows  individually." 

The  new  army  was  soon  formed,  too  weak  for  an 
invasion  of  the  enemy 's  country,  it  was  true,  but  with 
old  Jackson  that  made  no  particular  difference.  Fort 
Strother  was  established  as  a  basis  of  scant  supplies. 
No  regular  army  officer  would  have  counseled  the  in 
vasion.  The  Creeks  were  savages,  but  they  were  more 
accustomed  to  war,  better  disciplined,  indeed,  than 
the  militiamen  from  the  plow  and  the  cross-roads 
store.  The  few  hundred  of  our  men  who  had  been 
under  fire  were  regarded  as  seasoned  veterans;  but 
the  majority  of  the  fifteen  hundred,  or  fewer,  of  the 
new  levy  were  ignorant  of  the  word  of  command. 


256  "By  the  Eternal" 

They  had  joined  the  army  for  a  three  months'  lark, 
and  had  engaged  to  serve  no  longer.  This  was  agreed 
upon  and  at  the  expiration  of  the  term  they  were  free 
to  go  home.  Thus  it  was  that  our  army  was  constant 
ly  forming  and  as  constantly  disintegrating.  Jackson 
was  determined  that  the  "three  months  men"  should 
see  service,  that  they  should  eat  powder  and  breathe 
smoke.  The  first  battle  was  not  long  in  coming.  The 
Creeks  were  more  than  willing  to  meet  us.  Some 
of  the  friendly  Indians  had  gone  to  them,  laughing 
derisively  at  our  appearance.  One  morning  we  were 
attacked  by  a  vastly  superior  force.  Almost  instantly 
the  rawest  of  our  militia  were  thrown  into  confusion. 
They  not  only  began  a  retreat  but  ran  over  one  an 
other,  but  Jackson  met  them  with  his  sword  flashing 
in  the  sun.  He  presented  an  aspect  more  terrible 
than  a  Creek ;  he  was  Vengeance  on  horseback.  ' '  You 
scoundrel!"  he  cried,  halting  a  big  plowboy  at  the 
point  of  his  sword,  ''why  are  you  running  away?" 

"Me!  Am  I  running?  I'll  be  danged  if  I  knowed 
it.  Just  show  me  which  way  you  want  me  to  go,  and 
I  '11  travel  in  that  direction.  Come  on  back,  boys,  and 
let's  look  into  this  thing  a  leetle." 

The  flying  men  rallied  and  redeemed  themselves. 
"Fightin'  is  all  well  enough,"  I  heard  one  of  them 
say,  "but  it  seems  to  me  that  this  thing  needn't  to 
have  been  so  blamed  sudden." 

The  Creeks  had  never  fought  with  greater  energy, 
and  with  what  was  worse,  more  tact.  Here  and  there 
the  effect  of  British  training  plainly  could  be  dis 
cerned,  but  nothing  could  stand  against  the  determi 
nation  with  which  Jackson  inspired  his  men ;  and,  as 
I  flew  about  the  field,  delivering  his  orders  here  and 
there,  it  seemed  to  me  as  it  must  have  seemed  to  many 


Had  Become  Soldiers.  257 

others,  that  a  word  of  commendation  from  him  was 
worth  the  risk  of  a  life. 

The  Indians  were  defeated  but  not  in  a  manner  to 
please  Old  Hickory.  To  see  them  run  away  meant 
nothing  to  him  so  long  as  he  thought  that  they  might 
rally  again;  he  demanded  that  they  should  lie  bleed 
ing  on  the  ground.  On  this  occasion,  one  of  the  of 
ficers  sought  to  congratulate  him.  I  had  learned  bet 
ter.  ''Please,  keep  your  fair  words  until  I  deserve 
them,"  said  he. 

Soon  afterward  there  came  a  hotter  fight,  and  an 
other  wing  of  "three  months  men"  turned  about  to 
fly.  But  Jackson  was  among  them  with  his  sword,  and, 
what  was  more  terrible,  with  his  oaths.  It  seemed 
that  when  he  swore  the  grass  began  to  turn  yellow 
and  the  leaves  to  wither  on  the  trees.  The  troops  ' '  re 
covered  their  shame,"  or  at  least,  the  commander 
compelled  them  to  recover  it  by  plunging  for  it 
among  the  savages.  Again  the  Creeks  were  defeated 
and  with  considerable  loss;  but  Jackson  was  sullen, 
complimenting  a  few,  but  looking  upon  the  majority 
of  those  raw  fellows  with  contempt.  Better  prepara 
tion,  and  above  all  better  discipline  was  necessary; 
and  so,  being  in  need  of  supplies,  of  course,  the  army 
was  led  back  to  Fort  Strother. 

At  last  Old  Hickory  had  begun  to  attract  notice 
in  the  North.  Newspapers  opposed  to  the  administra 
tion  had  made  little  of  American  victories,  magnify 
ing  American  disaster,  until  the  average  reader  be 
lieved  that  the  country  was  ruined.  But  Jackson's 
fighting  qualities  offered  some  few  rays  of  hopeful 
light;  and  the  general  government  "observed"  him, 
not  merely  with  a  compliment,  which  to  him  would 
have  meant  nothing,  but  by  sending  to  his  aid  a  de- 


258  "By  the  Eternal." 

tachment  of  six  hundred  regular  troops.  There  was 
great  rejoicing  in  camp  when  these  men  arrived. 
Among  them  was  a  young  ensign  whose  appearance 
caused  me  to  seek  his  acquaintance,  Sam  Houston,  he 
who  was  to  stand  so  high  in  heroic  annals.  Jackson 
had  known  him,  a  youthful  lawyer,  in  Tennessee — 
knew  his  metal,  and  upon  meeting  him,  said :  ' '  Sam, 
some  men  look  for  a  chance  to  run  away.  See,  sir, 
that  you  don 't  seek  for  an  opportunity  to  get  killed. ' ' 

"I  shall  do  my  duty,  General,"  the  young  officer 
answered;  "and  if  it  lies  in  that  direction,  so  be  it." 

The  General  turned  to  Mahone.  "Colonel,"  said 
he,  "I  desire  you  to  understand,  sir,  that  impetuosity 
is  not  primarily  a  soldier-like  quality.  Don't  let  your 
enthusiasm  make  a  horse  of  your  judgment,  to  ride  it 
into  a  bog." 

"Begorry,  and  that's  sweet  flattery,"  Mahone  an 
swered. 

' '  I  mean  it  as  a  reprimand, ' '  the  General  replied. 

"And,  sir,"  the  Irishman  retorted,  "with  no  dis 
position  to  dispute  your  authority,  let  me  say  you 
might  take  a  fair  dose  of  that  same  medicine  your 
self,  leaving  a  sip  in  the  glass  for  our  friend  Richard, 
here." 

The  General  smiled  grimly. 

Among  troops  of  such  individuality,  it  was  almost 
impossible  to  enforce  discipline.  The  commander 
repeatedly  issued  orders,  warning  the  men  that  some 
one  might  be  called  upon  fo  suffer,  but,  despite  all 
this,  there  were  now  and  then  ugly  evidences  of  mu 
tiny.  One  day  a  young  soldier,  John  Woods,  whose 
name  is  still  remembered  when  the  deeds  of  heroes 
have  been  forgotten,  walked  off  from  his  post  as 
sentinel  in  camp  and  proceeded  to  eat  his  breakfast 


Had  Become  Soldiers.  259 

in  his  tent.  An  officer  came  along  and  seeing  a  num 
ber  of  beef  bones  scattered  about,  ordered  Woods 
to  gather  them  up.  Woods  answered  that  this  was 
at  present  out  of  the  line  of  his  duty,  that  he  was  on 
guard,  but  had  left  his  post  by  permission.  The  of 
ficer  persisted.  Woods  became  violent.  The  officer 
ordered  his  arrest.  Woods  seized  a  musket  and  at 
tempted  to  shoot  him.  Jackson  heard  the  noise  and 
came  roaring  upon  the  scene.  "The  scoundrel  shall 
die,"  he  swore.  The  young  soldier  was  subdued,  put 
into  the  guardhouse  and  in  due  time  court-martialed. 
The  majority  of  the  officers,  including  Colonel  Wil 
liams,  commander  of  the  regulars,  thought  that  noth 
ing  would  come  of  it,  other  than  a  sharp  reprimand ; 
but  I  knew  better  and  so  did  Mahone.  We  had  heard 
the  "old  man"  swear,  "By  the  Eternal,  the  time  is 
more  than  in  the  harvest  and  I  will  make  an  example 
of  him." 

The  court-martial  found  Woods  guilty  and  sen 
tenced  him  to  be  shot  in  "full  view  of  the  entire 
army. ' '  And  then  there  arose  a  loud  clamor  for  clem 
ency.  Chaplain  Atcherson  called  on  the  General  to 
exert  his  influence  on  the  side  of  mercy.  ' '  General, ' ' 
said  he,  "I  desire  to  speak  to  you  concerning  John 
Woods." 

"Then  be  brief,  sir,  unless  you  desire  to  speak  of 
the  dead." 

"General,  he  is  the  sole  support  of  an  aged  father 
and  mother." 

"I  am  sorry  for  them — they  have  my  sympathy, 
but  war  is  war.  So  long  as  it  is  play,  mere  parade, 
it  is  a  disgrace  to  one's  country.  And  this  war  has 
been  prolonged  by  insubordination — by  open  mutiny. 
It  has  been  declared  time  and  again  that  I  did  not 


260  "By  the  Eternal." 

dare  visit  severe  punishment  upon  a  fellow  citizen. 
Sir,  it  is  to  the  interest  of  the  country  that  I  com 
mand  soldiers,  not  citizens,  and  if  they  are  not  sol 
diers  now,  some  of  them  will  think  better  of  it  before 
night.  Do  you  hear  those  drums  ?  Do  you  know  what 
they  mean?  They  mean  that  your  mission  of  clem 
ency  has  been  fruitless.  I  admire  your  bravery  and 
your  zeal,  but  I  wish  you  good  morning. ' ' 

Woods  was  shot.  Sadness  fell  upon  the  camp ;  but 
when  the  sun  went  down  there  was  about  the  fires  no 
talk  of  mutiny.  The  citizens  had  become  soldiers. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

AT  HORSESHOE  BEND. 

THE  Creeks  were  determined  upon  a  final  stand 
at  Horseshoe  Bend,  a  peninsula  formed  by  the 
Tallapoosa  River.  This  place  was  fortified  in 
a  way  that  showed  more  than  the  redman's  military 
training.  A  fort  of  enormous  logs  had  been  con 
structed.  A  great  stockade  had  been  built.  Hun 
dreds  of  canoes  were  in  readiness  along  the  shore. 
They  presented  the  appearance  of  a  primeval  navy. 
Prophets  had  convinced  the  Indians  that  the  place 
was  impregnable. 

Horseshoe  was  more  than  fifty  miles  from  Fort 
Strother.  Between  the  two  points  there  was  a  dense 
forest.  Through  the  trackless  thicket  a  road  had  to 
be  cut.  This  required  labor  and  time ;  but  there  was 
no  shirking,  no  mutiny.  I  heard  one  man  remark  to 
another:  "If  your  time  is  out  why  don't  you  men 
tion  it  to  the  General?" 

"Oh,  I'd  rather  not,"  his  companion  answered. 
' '  The  old  man 's  watch  don 't  keep  very  good  time,  but 
he  doesn  't  like  to  be  told  of  it. ' ' 

It  was  many  days  before  we  arrived  within  sight 
of  the  fort,  with  our  two  little  spit-fire  cannons.  Our 
force  numbered  about  two  thousand.  The  Indians 
were  fewer,  but  they  were  the  most  stalwart  of  the 
Creeks,  and  so  advantaged  that  one  man  could  count 
against  five.  General  Coffee,  who  had  been  wounded, 
but  who  was  again  in  command  of  the  cavalry, 

261 


262  "By  the  Eternal." 

crossed  the  river  to  attack,  if  possible,  from  the  other 
side.  Jackson  at  once  ordered  the  "artillery"  to 
open.  From  the  top  of  a  hill,  the  two  little  guns  be 
gan  to  bark,  and  the  Indians  began  to  shout  with 
laughter.  The  balls  were  embedded  in  the  great  logs 
and  wrought  no  damage.  In  the  meantime  Coffee's 
men  crossed  over  to  the  peninsula,  set  fire  to  the 
cabins  in  the  rear  of  the  stockade  and  captured 
the  canoes,  rendering  an  Indian  retreat  impossible. 
And  now  silencing  the  guns,  Jackson  ordered  a 
charge  upon  the  fort.  The  men  sprang  forward  with 
a  shout.  It  was  difficult  to  scale  the  walls,  and 
through  the  portholes  the  soldiers  and  the  Creeks 
fought,  muzzle  to  muzzle.  Young  Ensign  Houston 
was  the  first  to  leap  over  into  the  fort.  In  an  in 
stant  he  was  pierced  through  the  thigh  with  an  ar 
row,  and  would  have  been  dispatched  but  for  Mahone 
and  his  men,  who  had  followed  at  his  heels. 

He  requested  Mahone  to  pull  out  the  arrow;  and 
the  Irishman  answered:  "This  is  my  busy  season 
and  I'm  not  much  of  a  surgeon,  but  I'll  do  the  best 
I  can. ' '  He  pulled,  but  the  arrow  was  barbed  and 
would  not  come.  ''Harder,"  Houston  shouted,  and 
Mahone  brought  it  out,  tearing  the  flesh  so  badly  that 
Houston  was  taken  fainting  from  the  fort.  They 
stretched  him  upon  the  ground.  Soon  he  began  to 
revive.  Jackson  saw  him,  and  said  as  he  cast  a 
glance  back  toward  the  fort :  ' '  Houston,  I  positively 
order  you  not  to  go  back  in  there. ' '  But  shortly  aft 
erward,  amidst  the  slaughter  in  the  fort,  Jackson 
looked  up  and  found  Houston  at  his  side,  but  there 
was  no  reprimand.  It  was  not  for  such  insubordina 
tion  that  Old  Hickory  censured. 

It  was  known  that  the  Indians  would  neither  give 


At  Horseshoe  Bend.  263 

nor  accept  quarter,  and  thus  with  a  complete  under 
standing  of  the  situation,  the  white  men  proceeded 
with  their  work  of  extermination.  During  all  this 
time  the  fire  started  by  Coffee's  men  was  raging.  The 
shanties  were  dry  and  burned  rapidly.  The  walls  of 
the  fort  were  soon  ablaze.  Hundreds  of  Indians  were 
shot  in  the  river.  Some  of  them  killed  themselves 
when  they  found  that  escape  was  impossible.  The 
last  remnant  of  them,  about  two  hundred,  took  posi 
tion  behind  a  huge  pile  of  logs  at  the  upper  end  of 
the  peninsula.  The  cannon  could  not  make  any  im 
pression  upon  their  defense.  Jackson  called  for 
volunteers  to  dislodge  them  by  assault.  Young  Sam 
Houston,  without  waiting  to  see  whether  or  not  he 
was  to  have  followers,  sprang  forward  to  the  attack. 
He  was  called  upon  to  halt,  and  he  did,  but  not  until 
he  was  almost  riddled  by  a  volley  from  the  enemy. 
Then  he  was  carried  away  and  laid  upon  the  ground 
to  die.  The  surgeons  said  that  there  was  no  hope 
for  him. 

The  Indians  were  dislodged,  butchered;  and  then 
began  a  still  hunt  through  the  woods.  From  off  amid 
the  timber  came  the  occasional  cry  "Remember  Fort 
Mims. "  It  was  here  that  the  war  began,  the  mas 
sacre  of  hundreds  of  whites,  women  and  children. 
The  day  and  the  night  of  vengeance  had  come.  Jack 
son  would  have  spared  the  Indians,  would  have  treat 
ed  the  prisoners  kindly,  but  we  could  not  make  the 
Creeks  understand  that  there  was  mercy  in  our  hearts. 
Some  of  the  warriors,  dying,  fired  on  our  men  who 
were  striving  to  aid  them.  In  the  night,  out  in  the 
darkness  there  was  the  slow,  deliberate  firing  of  the 
huntsman.  Finally  all  was  quiet;  but  a  few  of  the 
Indians  had  escaped.  More  than  six  hundred  had 


264  "By  the  Eternal." 

been  killed.  Our  loss  in  killed  and  wounded  was 
fewer  than  a  hundred. 

Houston  lay  without  attention  until  past  midnight. 
The  surgeons,  declaring  that  he  was  beyond  aid,  ad 
ministered  to  those  who  had  a  fighting  chance  for 
life;  but  they  found,  along  toward  the  turn  of  the 
night,  that  he  was  battling  for  life.  They  then  dressed 
his  desperate  wounds.  The  General  came  to  him. 

"Sam,  do  you  know  me?" 

"Old  Hickory,"  Houston  murmured,  faintly. 

"I  begged  you — "  he  did  not  say  commanded  now 
—"I  begged  you  not  to  go  back  into  the  fort."  The 
General  was  kneeling  beside  him.  How  tender  he 
could  be!  "I  begged  you,  Sam." 

"Yes,  I  know.  But  don't  worry  over  me.  I'm  all 
right." 

Jackson's  headquarters  were  beneath  a  tree.  A 
fire  burned.  He  stood  near  it,  reading  some  dis 
patches  that  had  just  been  brought  from  Governor 
Blount.  Out  in  the  dark,  a  rifle  popped  like  a  coach 
whip,  and  a  bullet  whizzed  between  his  face  and  the 
paper  he  was  reading.  "See  who  that  is,"  he  said 
to  an  orderly.  The  orderly  went  out  into  the  dark, 
was  gone  a  few  moments  and,  returning,  saluted: 
"An  Indian  paying  his  last  respects  to  you,  sir,"  he 
responded.  "He  is  dead." 

The  General  handed  me  one  page  of  a  letter. 
"From  Mrs.  Jackson  containing  news  that  will  in 
terest  you,"  he  said.  I  read  the  news  and  returned 
the  paper  to  him.  Then  I  went  forth  to  look  for  Ma- 
lone.  I  found  him  sitting  on  a  log,  in  the  light  of  a 
fire,  smoking  his  pipe.  ' '  These  red  devils  know  what 
good  tobacco  is,  Richard,"  said  he.  "Sit  down.  I 
found  some  of  it,  and  it  tastes  like  a  wild  rose  smells. 


At  Horseshoe  Bend.  265 

Well,  how's  all  over  your  way?  But  first  let  me  tell 
you,  lad,  that  you  did  fine  work.  Begorry,  anybody 
could  tell  that  your  mother  was  an  Irish  woman.  Ah, 
and  if  the  little  elf  had  seen  you  to-day,  she  wouldn't 
be  proud  of  her  cousin,  the  doctor,  I'll  tell  you  that. 
What 's  that  paper  you  've  got  there  ? ' ' 

' '  A  letter  from  Lismukes, ' '  I  answered. 

"The  devil  you  say!"  he  cried,  moving  farther 
away  from  me.  "And  how  can  you  keep  up  a  cor 
respondence  with  him  now  that  he's  been  dead  so 
long?" 

"Dan,  will  you  listen  to  me  for  a  moment?" 

"Sure  I  will,  gladly." 

"This  letter  was  written  to  Arabella  on  the  day 
before  the  duel.  Read  it." 

He  read  it  over  and  over  again,  and  then  asked: 
' '  How  long  have  you  had  it  ? " 

"Ever  since  that  day  she  and  her  husband  drove 
out  to  the  Hermitage.  When  you  went  over  to  the 
store  she  and  I  sat  in  the  summer  house,  in  the  gar 
den — and  she  gave  it  to  me  then,  and  told  me  to  give 
it  to  you — at  some  time  in  the  future,  'when  he  has 
forgotten  me,'  she  said." 

"But  I  have  not  forgotten,  Richard — never  can, 
and  why  should  you  give  it  to  me  now?" 

"Because  her  husband  is  dead." 

"Arrah — I  mean  I'm  sorry.  What  a  fool  mouth  a 
man  can  have.  How  do  you  know?" 

"I  have  just  seen  a  letter  written  by  Mrs.  Jackson 
to  the  General." 

"Then,"  said  he,  "I  don't  suppose  there  can  be 
any  mistake  about  it ;  couldn  't  be  much  of  a  mistake 
anyway  for  he  was  nearly  dead  when  he  left  us. 


266  "By  the  Eternal." 

Well,  I  tell  the  truth  as  nearly  as  I  can  when  I  say 
I'm  sorry." 

"Yes,  I  believe  you.  You  did  everything  you 
could  to  save  him,  but  disease  devoured  him  and  you 
couldn't  save  him  from  that." 

"And  my  thinking  about  Arabella  at  this  moment 
doesn't  make  his  fatal  disease  any  more  fatal." 

""She  has  always  loved  you,  Dan.  She  told  me 
you  were  the  only  man  she  ever  loved." 

"Yes,  Richard,  but  didn't  she  have  a  quaint  way 
of  showing  it  ?  Probably  she  loved  me  more  after  she 
found  out  that  she  loved  drygoods  less.  I  ought  to 
tell  her  to  go  to  the  devil,  but  begorry,  I'm  afraid 
she  might  do  it.  Now  what  am  I  to  do?  Write  her 
a  letter  of  condolence  ?  That  would  look  as  raw  as  a 
militia  man  that  wants  to  go  home." 

"You  couldn't  write  her  a  letter  of  congratula 
tion." 

"Couldn't  I?  But  I  could  say  I  am  sorry  her 
husband  is  dead  but  glad  she's  a  widow.  No,  I'll 
leave  it  to  time,  the  great  healer  and  adjuster;  I'll 
wait  till  tomorrow." 

The  power  of  the  Creeks  was  broken.  Nothing 
more  was  to  be  done  here  at  the  Horseshoe.  Jackson 
took  up  his  line  of  march  to  Fort  William,  at  least 
sixty  miles  distant.  Progress  through  the  wilderness 
was  slow,  but  finally,  and  without  meeting  any  hostile 
Indians,  the  Fort  was  reached.  Beyond  this  point, 
lay  the  land  which  the  Creeks  called  Holy  Ground. 
Their  prophets  had  told  them  that  no  white  man 
could  set  foot  upon  it.  They  had  not  measured  old 
Andrew's  feet.  Holy  Ground  was  entered.  The  war 
party  fled  to  the  swamps-  of  Florida.  Chief  after 
chief  came  in  and  surrendered.  Fort  Jackson  was 


At  Horseshoe  Bend.  267 

constructed,  and  it  was  to  this  place  that  the  great 
chief  Billy  Weathersford  came  to  give  himself  up. 
He  was  a  splendid  looking  fellow.  His  father  was  a 
white  man,  his  mother  a  Seminole  woman.  She  must 
have  been  handsome.  He  came  into  the  General's 
tent  bringing  with  him  a  deer  that  he  had  shot  on  the 
way.  He  threw  down  the  deer  and  said:  "General 
Jackson  I  am  not  afraid  of  you.  They  accused  me 
of  murdering  the  women  and  children  at  Fort  Mims. 
That  was  a  lie.  I  tried  to  save  them ;  but  I  have  not 
come  to  beg  mercy  for  myself.  You  may  kill  me  as 
soon  as  you  like.  But  I  do  beg  mercy  for  our  women 
and  children.  They  are  starving  in  the  woods,  and 
unless  you  feed  them,  they  must  die.  I  did  not  kill 
women  and  children.  I  kill  strong  men." 

The  General  took  his  hand.  "Weathersford,  I  be 
lieve  you,"  said  he.  "You  are  a  brave  man.  You 
know  how  to  fight.  Your  women  and  children  shall 
not  starve.  Nor  shall  you  remain  here  a  prisoner. 
You  are  free." 

Jackson  kept  his  word.  The  women  and  children 
did  not  starve. 

It  was  now  time  for  an  address  from  the  Gen 
eral  and  it  came.  He  thanked  his  soldiers,  called 
them  brave,  and  assured  them  that  they  should  soon 
return  home.  I  noticed  that  Mahone  did  not  frown. 

Soon  after  this,  General  Pinkney,  of  the  United 
States  army,  arrived  and  took  command.  In  this 
qliarter  Jackson's  work  was  done  for  the  present. 
Pinkney  complimented  the  troops  and  praised  our 
commander.  A  banquet  followed,  and  then  our  army 
was  disbanded.  The  homeward  march  was  swift,  and 
Mahone  kept  up  with  the  best  of  them.  As  we  were 
riding  along,  I  asked  him  if  he  had  written  to  Ara- 


268  "By  the  Eternal." 

bella.  "I  have  not,"  he  answered.  "It  was  a  deli 
cate  thing  to  do.  It  has  been  three  months  since  her 
husband  died,  and  I  suppose  she  has  married  some 
one  else.  When  a  widow  gets  into  the  habit  of  mar 
rying  it  is  a  hard  matter  to  stop  her.  Give  my  re 
gards  to  her." 

"Why,  you'll  see  her  as  soon  as  I  do." 

He  shook  his  head.  "I  think  not.  I  am  going  to 
join  the  regular  army  and  fight  my  friends,  the 
British.  The  General  will  recommend  me  for  a  com 
mission.  If  I  don't  get  it  I'll  go  in  as  a  private." 

But  the  next  day,  he  told  me  that  he  had  written  to 
Arabella.  I  remarked  that  he  would  reach  Nash 
ville  as  soon  as  his  letter,  and  he  answered:  "No,  I 
can  halt  outside  the  town  while  you  take  it  in.  I  am 
going  to  send  it  by  you.  And  perhaps  I'd  better  let 
you  read  it.  I  wish  you  would.  Here  it  is. ' ' 

He  gave  me  the  letter  and  this  is  what  I  read: 
' '  Honored  Madam : — Captain  Staggs  gave  me  the  Lis- 
mukes  letter,  not  because  I  had  forgotten  you,  but 
because  there  did  not  seem  to  be  any  immediate  need 
that  I  should.  I  could  never  forget  you.  In  the 
songs  of  the  birds  lives  your  voice,  and  while  they 
sing  I  hear  your  words.  I  have  been  thinking  a 
great  deal  since  I  read  that  letter,  and  for  the  matter 
of  that,  I  thought  a  great  deal  before  reading  it.  I 
recall  that  desperate  night,  that  buggy  out  in  front. 
Ah,  it  was  a  hearse  in  which  my  heart  was  to  be 
hauled  away.  But  a  heart  may  be  a  Lazarus — it  may 
arise  from  the  dead.  It  is  still  too  early  since  your 
late  bereavement  for  me  to  ask  you  to  be  my  wife,  but 
it  is  my  secret  wish  that  you  will.  I  can  bring  you 
no  fortune,  but  this  ought  not  to  make  any  differ 
ence  since  you  have  one  of  your  own.  If  I  had  one 


At  Horseshoe  Bend.  269 

ten  times  as  big  you  should  have  it.  This  letter,  as 
by  this  time  you  will  have  observed,  is  handed  to  you 
by  Captain  Staggs.  You  may  tell  him  what  you 
think  of  it,  or  write  to  me,  just  as  you  yourself  elect. 
I  never  had  but  one  letter  from  you  and  that  was 
written  by  Lismukes,  a  dead  man.  I  am  sorry  you 
feared  him.  Had  I  known  it  at  the  time  I  would  have 
killed  him  myself. 

' '  Speaking  of  your  fortune  reminds  me  that  I  am  a 
provident  man.  No  man  can  point  to  any  money  I 
ever  squandered,  and  assure  yourself  that  your  money 
will  be  just  as  safe  with  the  both  of  us  as  with  you 
alone.  I  was  thinking  that  you  might  give  it  to  some 
charitable  institution,  reserving,  of  course,  enough  for 
yourself,  the  amount  to  be  determined  by  your  own 
judgment.  Let  me  remind  you  that  everything  pos 
sible  was  done  to  prolong  the  life  of  the  departed  one ; 
but  in  this  life  events  shape  themselves.  I  am  not  a 
Fatalist,  but  had  it  been  intended  for  him  to  live 
longer  he  would  doubtless  have  done  so,  regardless  of 
what  might  follow.  Richard  had  hinted  to  me  that 
you  were  not  happy  with  him,  but  this  is  a  point 
which  it  is  both  premature  and  too  late  to  discuss. 
But  neither  is  it  too  early  nor  too  late  for  me  to  tell 
you  that  I  love  you.  The  poets  have  said  that  love  is 
a  disease,  and  if  this  be  true,  I  am  mortally  stricken. 
If  I  could  have  'unloved'  you  I  would  have  done  so, 
but  after  meeting  you  the  first  time  it  was  too  late.  If 
I  do  not  speak  plainly  enough,  you  must  draw  your 
own  conclusions,  and  I  request  you  not  to  be  too  mod 
est  in  doing  so.  In  the  event  that  you  are  not  already 
married,  this  is  hoping  that  it  may  find  you  well ;  and 
in  case  you  answer  this  letter,  I  shall  gladly  receive 
the  same." 


270  "By  the  Eternal.'9 

"What  do  you  think  of  it?"  he  asked  as  I  re 
turned  the  letter  to  him. 

''Dan,  I  don't  believe  I'd  send  it." 

"Ah,  and  do  you  know  I  was  thinking  of  that  same 
thing  myself  ?  I  was.  A  man  may  be  silent  and  pass 
for  wise,  but  put  a  pen  in  his  hand,  and  how  easy  it  is 
to  be  foolish.  What  do  you  think  I  ought  to  do  ? " 

"Leave  it  all  to  chance,"  I  answered,  and  he 
winced. 

"Begorry,  I  did  that  once  and  you  saw  what  came 
of  it.  Chance  has  never  been  my  friend,  Richard. ' ' 

"But  I  think  she  will  be  this  time." 

"You  do?  But  would  you  mind  making  chance 
masculine  instead  of  feminine?  Let  me  try  him 
rather  than  her  this  time." 

I  agreed  to  make  chance  masculine,  and  he  bright 
ened. 

Swift  horsemen  had  sped  the  news  of  our  victories. 
In  the  settlements  through  which  we  passed  there  was 
great  rejoicing,  and  food  in  abundance  was  provided 
for  us.  To  the  victors  belong  not  only  the  spoils  of 
war  but  the  hospitalities  of  peace.  Nashville  was 
wild  with  excitement.  Troops  of  gentlemen  on  horse 
back  rode  out  to  escort  us  into  the  city.  Dinners  were 
spread  in  every  passage-way,  and  at  the  Bell  Tavern 
a  grand  ball  was  given  in  '  honor  of  the  officers. 
Everything  was  in  readiness  before  we  entered  the 
town.  Mrs.  Jackson  did  not  approve  dancing,  but 
she  met  her  husband  at  the  Tavern.  In  our  worn  uni 
forms  we  cut  but  a  sorry  figure,  amid  broadcloth  and 
silk,  but  our  deeds  were  bright,  and  a  faded  shoulder- 
strap  was  glory's  dazzling  mark.  I  saw  Mahone 
dancing  with  the  daughter  of  the  president  of  the 
Cumberland  University,  formerly  our  old  Davidson 


At  Horseshoe  Bend.  271 

Academy.     When   the   "set"   was  over   the   Colonel 
came  to  me,  drew  me  aside  and  said: 

"Richard,  I  don't  see  the  widow  that  was  and  is." 
"Of  course  not,"  I  answered.    "Did  you  expect  to 
find  her  at  a  ball  so  soon  after  her  husband 's  death  ? ' ' 
"Begorry,  I  never  thought  of  that.    It  is  astonish 
ing  how  many  things  I  never  think  of;  but  do  you 
suppose  she  will  think  ill  of  me  for  coming  so  soon 
after  that  sad  event?" 

"Of  course  not.    You  have  nothing  to  do  with  it." 
"But  she  might  have  sent  me  some  word?" 
"In  answer  to  the  letter  you  didn't  send  her?" 
"I  hadn't  thought  of  that,  either.     Hold  on,  the 
General  is  going  to  deliver  an  address." 

The  Commander's  speech  was  full  of  praise  for  his 
men.  He  did  not  mention  mutiny  or  any  of  his 
troubles.  A  stranger  would  have  supposed  that  his 
work  had  been  a  willing  co-operation  with  soldiers 
still  more  willing.  Among  those  who  applauded 
loudest  were  former  officers  who  led  their  men  home 
before  the  Creeks  had  been  subdued.  When  we  had 
received  what  we  knew  was  to  come,  the  address,  I 
asked  Mahone  if  he  would  join  me  in  a  stroll  about 
the  town.  He  looked  at  me.  "Yes,"  said  I,  "in  the 
direction  of  Arabella's  house."  In  a  moment  his  hat 
was  on  his  head.  Out  upon  the  street  he  began  to 
caution  me. 

"Now,  if  we  go  in,  which  we  must  not,  don't  tell 
her  you  gave  me  the  Lismukes  letter.  Let  time  work 
that  out." 

I  promised  and  we  strode  on.  When  we  turned  a 
corner  and  saw  that  Arabella's  house  was  ablaze  with 
light,  he  gripped  my  arm. 


272  "By  the  Eternal." 

"Begorry,  it  looks  like  a  wake,"  he  said.  ''I  don't 
think  that  I've  got  the  courage  to  go  in." 

"But  I  am  going  to  take  you,  Dan." 

"All  right.  In  that  event  I'll  go  along  peace 
ably." 

Our  knock  at  the  door  was  answered  by  the  negress 
whom  we  knew  so  well.  She  did  not  take  our  names 
to  her  mistress,  but  ushered  us  at  once  into  the  sitting- 
room.  Arabella  had  arisen  and  was  coming  toward 
the  door  when  she  caught  sight  of  us.  She  hastened 
forward,  took  my  hand  with  some  murmured  word  of 
welcome,  some  inarticulate  emotion,  and  turning  to 
Mahone,  holding  forth  her  hand  she  said:  "And 
you,  too,  Captain  Mahone." 

"Colonel,  Madam — or  Miss,  I  beg  your  pardon," 
the  Irishman  answered,  taking  her  hand  and  bowing 
low  over  it.  "I  hope  you  are  well." 

"Very  well,  I  thank  you.  Ah,  you  remember  our 
friends,  here."" 

In  the  room  were  Judge  Black,  and  his  wife  whose 
former  husband,  it  will  be  remembered,  came  down 
the  river  on  a  raft.  The  Judge  cried  out, ' '  Why  bless 
my  soul ! ' '  And  in  turn  warmly  grabbed  each  of  us. 
His  wife  remembered  us  with  a  cool  smile  and  a  thin 
hand.  We  sat  down  while  Arabella  seemed  to  nutter 
about,  looking  for  something,  and  the  Judge,  clear 
ing  his  throat,  preliminary  to  some  important  obser 
vation,  remarked  that  some  time  had  elapsed  since 
last  we  met.  Arabella's  sleeves  were  short  again,  and 
though  arrayed  in  black,  she  did  not  seem  to  have 
passed  through  a  season  of  very  profound  sorrow. 
She  observed  that  the  weather  was  pleasant,  and  Ma 
hone  blurted  that  if  she  said  so  he  would  swear  to 
it,  and  then  begged  pardon  for  his  impetuosity,  de- 


At  Horseshoe  Bend.  273 

daring  that  the  General  had  reprimanded  him  "for 
that  same." 

Knowing  that  Arabella  had  not  begun  to  take 
boarders  again,  I  wondered  as  to  how  long  the  Judge 
and  his  wife  might  be  disposed  to  inflict  us  with  their 
uninteresting  not  to  say  hampering  company.  And 
Mahone,  who  was  sometimes  as  quick  to  understand  a 
situation  as  at  other  times  to  misunderstand  it,  re 
marked  to  Arabella  that  she  must  pardon  us  for  call 
ing  so  late.  It  was  politeness  for  her  to  protest  that 
it  was  not  late,  but  nothing  demanded  that  this  fool 
Judge  should  agree  with  her.  He  did,  though;  he 
said  it  was  just  turning  the  elbow  of  the  evening. 
Then  he  spoke  of  the  great  improvement  that  had 
taken  place  in  the  city  since  we  left. 

"And  if  we  had  not  left  and  stayed  away  so  long 
as  we  did  there  might  not  be  any  city  at  all  here 
now,"  Mahone  spoke  up.  "The  Creeks  would  have 
burnt  it  down." 

"Oh,  perhaps  not  that  bad,"  the  Judge  replied, 
yawning.  "They  would  have  found  us  ready  to  de 
fend  our  homes." 

I  looked  at  Mahone  to  restrain  him,  but  it  was  too 
late.  "As  soon  as  you  had  caught  sight  of  a  Creek 
warrior,  your  thumping  heart  would  have  knocked 
out  the  memory  of  all  your  possessions  except  as  to 
your  legs,  sir,"  the  Irishman  declared,  and  Arabella 
laughed  to  cover  his  affront. 

"I  have  never  run  away  from  home  yet,  sir,"  the 
Judge  retorted.  ' '  You  will  always  find  me  there. ' ' 

"I  don't  doubt  that,"  Mahone  roared  with  laugh 
ter.  "And  there  are  many  of  the  same  sort;  but  I 
beg  your  pardon,  Judge.  I  didn't  mean  to  offend 
you." 


274  "By  the  Eternal." 

"In  that  event,  sir,  all  is  smooth  between  us;  but 
my  dear,"  he  added,  addressing  his  wife,  "it  is  time 
we  were  going  home." 

Arabella  went  with  them  to  the  door.  She  returned 
laughing.  Mahone  begged  her  pardon.  She  assured 
him  that  he  had  committed  no  offense.  In  a  rocker 
she  took  a  seat,  between  Mahone  and  me.  I  wondered 
what  blunder  was  to  come  next,  on  the  part  of  my 
friend.  I  did  not  wait  long. 

"Death  is  a  sad  thing,  madam,"  said  he.  She  did 
not  answer.  "I  mean  outside  the  army,"  he  ex 
plained,  and  realizing  he  made  a  bad  start,  he  looked 
to  me  for  help.  I  pretended  not  to  notice  his  dis 
tress.  Finally  he  roared  at  me :  "  Richard,  why  the 
devil — begging  your  pardon,  Miss — don't  you  say 
something  ? ' ' 

"I  was  waiting  for  you,  Dan." 

' '  But  haven 't  you  got  better  sense  than  that  ?  And 
I  suppose  if  I  were  to  get  up  to  go  right  now  you 
would  let  me,  as  you  did. on  a  former  occasion.  Mrs. 
Harvey,  I  have  much  trouble  with  my  friend  Rich 
ard,  but  for  all  that  I  am  under  many  obligations  to 
him ;  and  that  was  a  fine  letter  he  gave  me — that  you 
gave  him  from  Lismukes — " 

She  did  not  speak  but  she  looked  at  him  and  he 
was  silent,  till  she  held  out  both  hands  toward  him, 
and  then  he  gulped  and  struggled  with  himself,  and 
said,  looking  at  her  hands,  reached  out  to  him:  "For 
me,  Madam?" 

"For  you,  Dan — always." 

I  turned  away.  "I  am  ready  to  go  now,  Rich 
ard,"  he  said  after  a  time,  and  when  I  looked  back, 
the  great  big-hearted  fellow  was  wiping  his  eyes. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

A    MESSAGE   FROM    WASHINGTON. 

M  AH  ONE  sang  his  way  out  to  the  Hermitage,  in 
the  dawn;  and  I  let  him  sing,  knowing  that 
there  had  never  been  a  heart  more  truly  full 
of  music.  We  slept  till  noon,  and  then  I  walked  past 
the  school-house,  into  the  woods,  where  the  old 
"whale"  lay,  covered  with  moss.  As  I  was  coming 
home,  Mahone  met  me  in  the  road  and  turned  back 
with  me.  "Ah,  my  friend,"  he  said,  "happiness  is  a 
great  thing  to  be  sure.  It  is  worth  waiting  for ;  but 
here  arises  a  trouble.  I've  got  to  go  back  into  the 
army  again  before  we  marry.  Society  demands  that 
her  husband  shall  have  been  deceased  a  respectable 
length  of  time  before  she  ought  to  marry  again,  and 
I  'm  not  going  to  sit  down  and  wait  on  society — I  '11  tell 
you  that.  And  besides  I  am  not  going  to  become  a 
peaceable  citizen  so  long  as  America  has  a  British 
enemy.  Among  the  letters  waiting  for  the  General,  he 
told  me  just  now,  is  one  from  the  War  Department 
offering  him  a  brigadier's  commission  in  the  United 
States  army.  But  I  don 't  believe  he  '11  accept.  And  he 
ought  not  to.  They  ought  to  rate  him  higher  than 
that,  and  I  believe  they  will  very  soon,  and  when  they 
do,  it  will  mean  a  chance  for  you  and  me. ' ' 

"But  Arabella  may  object  to  your  going  into  the 
army  again,"  said  I. 

"Do  you  think  that,  now?  Well,  I  don't  want  to 
dispute  with  my  wife  that  is  to  be,  but  I  'm  going  into 

275 


276  "By  the  Eternal." 

the  army.  It's  a  man's  duty  to  be  a  patriot  before  he 
is  a  husband. ' ' 

Mrs.  Jackson  told  me  that  Nettie  had  visited  her 
once  during  my  absence.  "And  every  day,"  said  this 
tender,  artless  woman,  ' '  she  would  walk  over  into  the 
woods  with  little  Andrew,  and  would  talk  about  a 
great  whale  that  they  had  seen — the  very  whale  that 
swallowed  Jonah,  the  little  fellow  said." 

"I  wish  some  whale  would  swallow  a  Jonah  or  two 
in  the  War  Department"  the  General  spoke,  looking 
up  from  his  papers.  ' '  If  the  news  is  true  that  Napol 
eon  has  fallen  and  is  to  be  sent  to  Elba,  and  there  seems 
to  be  now  no  possible  doubt  of  it,  there  will  fall  upon 
America  perhaps  the  darkest  day  in  her  history.  Eng 
land  no  longer  compelled  to  struggle  on  the  continent, 
will  concentrate  her  revengeful  energies  upon  us. 
Our  very  life  as  a  nation  is  in  danger;  and  there  is 
not  a  country  in  Europe  that  will  help  us.  Abroad 
we  are  accused — and  by  the  Federalists  at  home — of 
a  sympathetic  alliance  with  Bonaparte  against  all  es 
tablished  order.  This  will  mean  at  least  the  moral 
support  of  the  world  against  us,  in  favor  of  Britain. 
New  England  cries  that  her  ships  are  rotting  at  the 
wharves.  Our  credit  is  exhausted.  Girard  and  As- 
tor  have  refused  to  advance  more  money.  The  treas 
ury  echoes  like  a  church.  The  President  and  the  Sec 
retary  of  State  have  had  to  pledge  their  private  es 
tates  for  the  loan  of  not  more  than  two  million  dol 
lars.  Spain  pretends  to  be  friendly,  but  the  Spanish 
Governor  at  Pensacola,  is  harboring  the  fugitive 
Creek  chiefs  and  the  English  will  arm  them  and  put 
them  into  the  field  against  us.  I  see  the  situation  in 
a  noon-day  sun — and,  by  the  Eternal,  they  offer  me  a 


SEARCHING    FOR   THE    SOOTHING    MUSIC    OF   A    QUIET    PSALM. 


A  Message  From  Washington.  277 

commission  as  brigadier-general,  to  serve  under  some 
old  incompetent.     I  will  not  accept  it." 

"Oh,  no,  you  must  not  accept  it,"  his  wife  de 
clared.  "It  seems  to  me,  Mr.  Jackson,  that  you  have 
done  fighting  enough.  You  are  not  well  anyway,  and 
your  wounds  are  not  completely  healed.  You  have 
need  of  rest." 

She  took  down  the  Bible,  turned  past  the  ram's 
horn  and  the  sling,  and  I  think,  was  searching  for 
the  soothing  music  of  a  quiet  psalm,  when  there  came 
a  knock  at  the  front  door.  From  town  there  had  come 
a  courier,  bearing  a  special  message  from  the  War 
Department. 

"Wait  a  moment,"  said  the  General  when  he  had 
opened  the  packet  and  glanced  over  its  contents.  And 
then,  seizing  his  turkey  feather  he  wrote  rapidly  for 
a  few  moments,  folded  the  paper,  sealed  it,  addressed 
it,  and  handing  it  to  the  courier,  dismissed  him.  Then 
he  walked  up  and  down  the  room. 

"Was  it  anything  very  important,  Mr.  Jackson?" 
his  wife  inquired. 

"Yes,  Mrs.  Jackson,  very  important.  Major-Gen- 
eral  William  Henry  Harrison  has  resigned.  The  ma 
jor-generalship,  with  assignment  to  duty  as  com 
mander  of  the  southern  division,  has  been  offered  to 
me,  and  I  have  accepted  it.  Richard,  this  means  that 
you  are  to  retain  your  position  on  my  staff.  I  shall 
apply  at  once  for  your  commission." 

"I  am  deeply  grateful,  sir,"  I  answered. 

"Grateful  because  you  are  a  patriot.  Where  is 
Colonel  Mahone?" 

I  went  out  to  look  for  him,  called,  but  received  no 
answer.  Then  it  occurred  to  me  that  he  must  have 
gone  to  town,  and  so  I  reported  to  the  General. 


278  "By  the  Eternal." 

"Ride  in  and  inform  him  that  I  desire  his  presence 
here,  at  once." 

I  found  Mahone  in  Arabella's  sitting-room.  I  also 
found  her  there.  As  soon  as  I  entered  she  said: 
"Richard,  tell  him  he  is  not  going  to  the  war.  I  just 
know  if  he  goes  he'll  never  get  back  alive.  I  really 
can't  let  him  go." 

Then  he  blurted:  "Begorry,  you  ought  to  be  used 
to  husbands  going  by  this  time — I  beg  your  pardon, 
sweetheart,  I  didn't  know  how  that  would  sound.  But 
really,  you  must  not  try  to  persuade  me.  I  like  so 
ciety  very  much  and  have  all  sorts  of  faith  in  its  good 
sense,  but  I  can't  sit  around  here  like  a  village  post 
master  because  it  says  that  Major  Harvey  hasn't  been 
dead  quite  long  enough — didn't  know  how  that  was 
going  to  sound,  either.  'Just  let  me  have  my  way  this 
once  and  I'll  make  you  the  most  obedient  husband 
you  ever  had — ever  saw." 

She  sat  smiling  at  him.  Then  she  appealed  again 
to  me.  "I  can't  help  you  any,"  I  answered.  "The 
fact  is  that  a  major-general  of  the  United  States  army 
has  sent  for  him." 

"Arrah,"  he  cried.  "A  major-general?  And  who 
is  he,  pray?" 

"Andrew  Jackson.  His  appointment  came  just 
now  and  he  has  accepted  it." 

"Where  is  my  hat.  Sweetheart,  you  must  not  hide 
my  hat.  Give  it  to  me,  please." 

She  brought  his  hat  and  tip-toeing,  put  it  on  his 
head.  "You'll  come  back,  Dan,  to  tell  me  good-bye, 
won't  you?" 

"Yes,  gladly— I  mean  I  will." 

She  put  her  arms  about  his  neck  and  kissed  him; 
and  when  we  had  mounted  our  horses  at  the  gate,  he 


A  Message  From  Washington.  279 

said :  ' '  Richard,  it  begins  to  look  as  if  she  really  does 
love  me." 

"When  a  wealthy  widow  marries  a  penniless  man 
the  natural  inference  is  that  she  loves  him,"  I  an 
swered. 

"Arrah,  there's  encouragement  in  that  wise  obser 
vation.  ' ' 

The  hour  was  late  but  the  General  was  waiting  for 
us.  "Colonel  Mahone,"  he  said,  "I  don't  know  that 
I  can  obtain  for  you  a  commission  as  Colonel  in  the 
United  States  army,  but  feel  assured  that  I  can  as 
Captain  of  Cavalry.  Would  you — 

"You  delight  me,  sir." 

"That  is  sufficient.    Good  night." 

Within  a  few  days  there  came  a  letter  from  Beal 
announcing  that  the  Supreme  Court  had  sustained 
the  numerous  decisions  of  the  courts  below,  and  that 
I  was  now  the  undisputed  possessor  of  a  handsome 
estate.  Along  with  this  news  came  a  statement  of  the 
amount  due  for  attorney  fees.  Being  a  careful  man 
it  was  not  likely  that  Beal  would  overlook  even  so 
minor  a  point.  As  it  was  the  General's  determination 
to  start  for  the  south  within  a  few  weeks,  I  had  not 
the  time  to  go  to  Virginia,  so  I  sent  Beal  a  check  for 
the  amount  due  him  and  in  a  letter  told  him  that  if 
they  should  by  any  possible  chance  establish  a  higher 
court,  to  keep  my  affairs  out  of  it  until  I  could  get 
there,  which  meant  until  after  peace  should  be  estab 
lished  between  Great  Britain  and  the  United  States. 

Within  one  day  from  the  time  set  for  the  General's 
departure  our  commissions  arrived,  but  Mahone  was 
not  sent  off  somewhere  to  find  a  vacancy  in  the  caval 
ry;  he  was  assigned  to  duty  on  the  General's  staff. 
Over  this  good  fortune  he  whooped  like  a  boy. 


280  "By  the  Eternal" 

"Now,  sir,"  he  said  to  me,  "Arabella  wouldn't 
want  me  to  stay  even  if  I  should  make  of  it  a  special 
request.  Well,  no,  I  don't  want  to  think  that,"  he 
corrected  himself.  "But  surely  it  ought  to  make 
her  a  very  proud  woman  not  to  be  the  wife  of  a 
militia  officer." 

Once  more,  on  the  night  before  we  took  our  leave, 
the  sling  and  the  ram's  horn  were  brought  out.  But 
the  reading,  though  the  hour  had  grown  late,  was  in 
terrupted  by  a  number  of  visitors  who  had  come  to 
bid  the  General  good-bye.  Among  them  was  Governor 
Blount  himself,  a  quiet,  dignified  gentleman,  from 
whom  you  might  expect  a  well-written  letter  with 
very  little  news  in  it.  He  had  just  issued  a  call  for 
more  troops,  and  he  knew  that  the  brave  sons  of  Ten 
nessee  would  rush  forward  to  fill  the  quota.  And 
such  afterward  proved  to  be  true;  indeed,  so  eager 
were  they  that  after  the  quota  was  filled  sums  as 
high  as  one  hundred  dollars  were  paid  for  the  places 
already  held  by  early  applicants. 

The  general  tenor  of  the  news  brought  by  the  Gov 
ernor  was  bad.  He  had  been  shown  a  letter  written 
by  Mr.  Albert  Gallatin  from  abroad,  which  more  than 
confirmed  the  reports  that  England,  with  both  hands 
now  free,  was  going  to  box  the  jaws  of  America. 

"And  that  red-sashed  assassin,  Spain!"  exclaimed 
the  General.  "She  is  secretly  aiding  England  by 
arming  the  Creeks  that  have  fled  from  our  just 
vengeance." 

The  Governor  said  that  he  hoped  not,  whereupon 
the  General  exclaimed :  ' '  But  I  have  direct  evidence 
of  the  fact,  sir,  and  when  I  know  a  thing,  I  know  it. ' ' 

The  Governor  admitted  that  when  a  man  knew  a 
thing  he  knew  it.  He  shook  hands  with  the  General, 


A  Message  From  Washington.  281, 

and  did  not  tell  him  that  he  would  write  soon,  but  I 
knew  that  he  would. 

Nothing  can  be  slower  than  war,  except,  perhaps, 
the  formation  of  a  satisfactory  treaty  with  Indians. 
In  the  "Holy  Ground,"  during  weather  hot  enough 
to  bake  a  lizard,  week  after  week,  the  General  was 
detained.  Instructions  from  Washington  assured  him 
that  in  relation  to  the  Creeks  he  was  treating  with  a 
conquered  people,  but  Old  Hickory  needed  no  such 
assurances.  He  knew  it  and  the  Creeks  felt  it.  The 
government  insisted  that  the  Indians  should  cede  land 
enough  to  compensate  for  the  expenses  of  their  own 
defeat,  and  this  staggered  them.  Week  after  week  the 
chiefs  argued  in  secret  council,  and  occasionally  we 
heard  of  one  of  them  running  away  to  receive  the 
shelter  of  the  Spanish  governor  at  Pensacola:.  But 
finally  everything  was  "signed  up"  in  a  satisfactory 
manner — to  the  government,  the  Indians  ceding  nearly 
the  entire  territory  of  Alabama. 

The  General  now  proceeded  to  take  command  of 
his  army,  three  thin  regiments  of  United  States 
troops;  but  the  Tennessee  levy  was  on  the  march 
and  soon  joined  us.  It  was  more  of  a  great  hunting 
party  than  an  army.  The  youngsters  had  wandered 
off  from  the  ranks  and  shot  squirrels  by  day  and 
had  howled  their  coarse  and  tuneless  songs  at  night; 
and  now,  under  actual  military  restraint,  some  of 
them  began  to  talk  mutiny.  Then  there  came  from 
headquarters  a  piece  of  information:  "Young  re 
cruits  will  please  remember  that  they  are  now  in  the 
service  of  the  general  government,  commanded  by  a 
Major-General,  not  of  militia,  but  of  the  regular 
army."  After  this  bit  of  not  vital  intelligence  fol 
lowed  a  paragraph  that  caused  the  squirrel  hunters  to 


282  "By  the  Eternal." 

bat  their  eyes:     "Any  one  stimulating  mutiny  will 
be  promptly  shot. ' ' 

Again  had  "fellow  citizens"  become  soldiers.  How 
orderly  they  were,  under  Old  Hickory's  "kind  ad 
vice!"  Raggedly  they  marched,  of  course,  for  an 
army's  grace  must  come  of  long,  unconscious  acquire 
ment,  not  of  sheer  determination,  but  there  was  no 
whooping  after  squirrels  through  the  woods. 

It  was  delightful,  coming  out  of  the  timber 's  stifled 
air  into  the  cool  breezes  of  the  gulf.  And  there  was 
another  stimulus — we  were  to  encounter  a  civilized 
foe.  The  English  had  effected  a  landing  on  the  coast. 
Indeed,  Colonel  Nichols  had,  with  a  force  of  ex- 
Britain  troops,  found  entertainment  with  the  Span 
ish  governor  at  Pensacola,  had  issued  a  most  insult 
ing  proclamation  to  the  people  of  Louisiana,  calling 
upon  them  to  support  the  cause  of  England,  applying 
to  the  Americans  every  hard  name  that  ink  could 
spread.  Jackson's  always  ready  turkey  feather  flew 
to  business.  He  opened  up  a  polite  correspondence 
with  the  Spaniard,  and  incidentally  inquired  why,  as 
agent  of  a  friendly  government,  he  not  only  gave 
refuge  to  murderous  savages  but  harbored  an  English 
armament,  avowed  enemies  of  America.  The  Span 
ish  governor  answered  in  great  astonishment.  He 
could  not  understand  why  his  dear  friend,  General — 
ah,  yes,  Jackson,  should  so  accuse  him.  The  Indians! 
Those  whom  he  had  succored  were  subjects  of  his 
majesty,  the  King  of  Spain.  The  English!  Why, 
they  were  his  guests,  and  in  honor  of  a  nation  which 
Spain  revered  so  much,  he  had  hoisted  their  flag  over 
his  fort,  along  with  the  colors  of  his  own  dear  country. 
Jackson  wrote  again  and  came  so  near  calling  the 
Spaniard  a  liar  that  the  agent  of  the  once  mighty 


A  Message  From  Washington,  283 

peninsula  reprimanded  him  for  his  American  lack  of 
diplomatic  procedure.  Jackson's  turkey  feather  flut 
tered.  He  reminded  the  governor  that  the  corre 
spondence  on  his  part  was  no  attempt  to  bring  about 
a  love  affair.  He  had  not  the  time  for  a  polite 
flirtation,  and  he  made  one  of  his  natural  demands. 
The  British  must  be  instantly  expelled.  The  town 
and  all  munitions  must  be  surrendered.  For  the 
stores,  receipts  would  be  given,  and  at  the  proper 
time  everything  should  be  returned  to  the  Spanish 
owners,  -together  with  all  necessary  explanations. 
This  was  outrageous.  The  governor  strutted  forth  in 
front  of  his  "palace"  and  pawed  the  earth.  There 
was  great  applause.  Sturdy  Englishmen  clapped 
their  hands  and  then  laughed  in  their  sleeves.  Jack 
son  sent  an  envoy  to  confer  with  the  Spanird.  He 
was  fired  on.  Still  the  General  hesitated.  He  sent 
another  pleader  for  peace  and  quiet,  a  Spaniard. 
The  governor  sent  back  words  which  sounded  like 
"bah,  pah,  fudge."  Then  we  opened  fire  on  the  town, 
charged,  routed  out  the  English,  who,  blowing  up  a 
fort  at  the  entrance  of  the  harbor,  sailed  away.  We 
captured  the  Spaniards,  those  of  them  who  were  not 
killed  by  grape-shot,  with  which  we  raked  the  streets, 
and  put  the  governor  in  the  calaboose,  feathers  and 
all.  And,  on  the  part  of  our  government,  with  the 
most  statesmanlike  pen  of  an  Adams,  it  took  a  long 
time  to  ' '  explain  this  little  incident. ' ' 

With  all  its  blustering  promises,  in  the  low  coun 
try  the  war  lagged.  The  hot  weather  passed  and 
autumn  set  in.  Every  day,  though,  there  was  a  fresh 
promise  and  so  we  were  in  no  want  of  encouragement. 
The  General's  health  was  bad.  Mahone  termed  him 
"a  grim  epidemic  ready  to  seize  upon  the  vitals  of 


284  "By  the  Eternal." 

the  enemy."  "Ah,"  the  Irishman  said  to  me  one 
night  as  we  sat  where  the  moon  was  sparkling  through 
the  pines,  "I  have  a  letter  from  that  most  charming 
of  all  women.  And,  Richard,  she  is  afraid  that  I 
have  not  quite  forgiven  her  for  marrying  Harvey,  as 
if  that  was  anything  to  me — I  mean,  as  if  I  had  any 
authority  over  her  at  that  time.  She  tells  me  that 
I  don't  love  her  as  much  as  she  does  me.  Mind  that, 
now,  as  you  go  along.  She  wants  to  have  a  grand 
wedding.  I  didn't  approve  of  it,  but  I  told  her  I'd 
be  there,  no  matter  what  sort  of  a  wedding  she  had. 
With  your  fine  estate,  Richard,  you  are  not  going  to 
remain  in  the  army  after  peace  is  declared,  are  you  ? ' ' 

"No.  It  would  be  insupportably  dull.  My  inten 
tion  is  to  buy  a  tract  of  land  somewhere  up  the  river 
from  the  Hermitage,  and  live  like  a  gentleman. ' ' 

"A  fine  way  to  live,  to  be  sure." 

The  General  came  upon  us,  in  one  of  his  meditative 
walks.  He  halted,  and  arising  we  offered  him  our 
log,  but  he  remained  standing.  "It  is  now  clearly 
the  intention  of  the  enemy  to  concentrate  his  forces 
for  a  blow  at  New  Orleans,"  said  he.  "And  to-mor 
row  we  march  in  that  direction." 

Upon  his  face  the  moon  sprinkled  her  light,  gauzing 
his  countenance  with  a  silver  veil.  He  stood  for  a 
few  moments,  in  silence,  and  then  he  strode  off, 
amid  the  black  shadows  of  the  pines. 

On  the  following  day  we  took  up  our  line  of  march. 
A  ragged  array,  indeed,  to  encounter  the  very  flower, 
the  bloomed  rose  of  the  British  army.  The  way  was 
for  the  most  part  worse  than  rough;  it  was  mire, 
arid,  after  marching  with  all  possible  haste,  we  ar 
rived  at  New  Orleans  on  the  first  of  December.  The 
city  had  for  some  time  been  in  extreme  alarm  and 


A  Message  From  Washington.  285 

now  was  in  great  excitement.  The  legislature  was 
in  session  and  Governor  Claiborne  was  issuing  an  oc 
casional  address,  requesting  the  people  to  be  quiet. 
The  legislature  passed  a  joint  resolution,  declaring 
that  the  British  should  not  enter  the  city.  A  copy  of 
this  resolution,  when  presented  to  the  ladies,  ought  to 
have  allayed  their  fears,  but  did  not.  There  were 
mutterings  of  sedition  in  this  mixed  population;  but 
this  pleased  Old  Hickory.  It  gave  him  the  opportu 
nity  to  declare  martial  law. 

It  was  now  known  that  on  the  gulf,  near  New  Or 
leans,  there  were  fifty  English  warships.  Some  of 
these  vessels  commanded  by  Nelson,  had  fought  in  the 
Battle  of  the  Nile.  The  soldiers  were  of  equal  re 
nown.  They  had  achieved  victory  under  Welling 
ton.  They  had  captured  Washington  City.  Among 
them  was  the  famous  Highland  regiment  whose  backs 
no  enemy  had  ever  seen.  This  armament  comprised 
about  twenty  thousand  men.  Jackson's  army,  in 
cluding  regulars  and  militia,  numbered  fewer  than 
three  thousand.  He  knew  that  reinforcements  were 
not  likely  to  reach  him;  that  in  Europe  such  odds 
would  compel  retreat,  but  with  his  awkward  squad, 
his  long  haired  riflemen,  he  felt  supreme,  and  chafed 
because  the  enemy  came  in  such  deliberation.  But 
even  in  fretful  mood  he  neglected  no  detail.  His 
restless  eye  saw  everything — noted  it.  He  could  eat 
only  boiled  rice,  a  few  spoonfuls  a  day,  and  he  did 
not  sleep  more  than  an  hour  at  a  time,  on  a  couch  in 
his  office.  Every  assailable  point  was  fortified  with 
earth  and  logs,  and  so  careful  was  the  General  of  his 
stores,  that  as  Mahone  remarked,  he  would  have 
picked  up  a  grain,  of  powder  had  he  found  it  in  the 
street. 


286  "By  the  Eternal" 

The  days  passed  with  "alarms  and  excursions," 
and  with  an  occasional  letter  from  Governor  Blount. 
December  was  more  than  half  gone,  and  still  no  enemy 
had  shown  himself  within  the  vicinity  of  New  Orleans. 
The  legislature  continued  its  session.  One  thought 
ful  member  declared:  "As  we  are  under  martial  law 
we  might  as  well  quit."  But  another  member,  equal 
ly  thoughtful,  thus  answered  him:  "No,  we  ought 
not  to  adjourn  until  we  have  passed  a  few  more  laws 
for  the  next  general  assembly  to  appeal." 

The  French  part  of  the  city  was  exceedingly  gay. 
It  was  not  intended  that  war  should  interfere  with 
sociability.  Paris  did  not  grant  such  a  right  to  a 
siege,  and  here  was  Paris  in  the  swamps  of  America. 

"Ah,"  said  Mahone,  "if  the  British  can  shoot  as 
straight  with  their  muskets  as  these  Creole  women  can 
with  their  eyes,  not  one  of  us  will  be  left  alive  after 
the  battle." 

From  time  to  time,  came  information  that  the  Brit 
ish  forces  had  effected  a  landing,  to  be  disproved  by 
later  more  careful  scouts.  Finally,  on  the  twenty- 
third  of  December,  there  came  positive  news,  brought 
by  Major  Villere,  a  Creole  planter  who  had  been  cap 
tured  by  the  enemy  and  who  had  escaped.  Having 
approached  as  near  to  the  city  as  they  could  by 
water,  the  river  being  too  shallow  for  the  great  ships, 
the  English  had  landed  at  Bayou  Bienvenue,  in  the 
delta,  not  more  than  ten  miles  from  Jackson's  head 
quarters.  They  were  now  camped  on  Villere 's  plan 
tation. 

"By  the  Eternal,"  the  General  exclaimed,  "they 
shall  not  sleep  there  undisturbed.  We  must  attack 
them  to-night." 

It  was  now  nearly  two   o'clock    in   the    morning. 


A  Message  From  Washington.  287 

Jackson  had  not  lain  down  during  two  days,  and  a 
moment  before  receiving  the  news  he  looked  yellow 
and  feeble ;  but  now  he  appeared  strong — an  avenger. 
Orders  were  at  once  issued  for  a  forward  movement; 
but  to  deliver  these  orders  required  time.  There  were 
so  many  points  to  be  defended  that  the  small  bodies 
of  troops  were  widely  separated ;  but  by  daylight  our 
men,  having  been  commanded  to  march  first  to  New 
Orleans,  were  pouring  into  the  city.  The  "navy" 
consisted  of  one  ship,  light  of  draft,  and  now  at 
anchor  off  the  levee.  Astride  his  horse,  in  the  square 
in  front  of  the  old  Spanish  Cathedral,  the  com 
mander  reviewed  his  army:  regulars — Tennesseeans, 
Kentuckians,  Mississippians,  Creoles,  Chocktaw  In 
dians  and  a  company  of  free  negroes — a  motley  array 
to  any  military  eye.  Many  of  the  men  were  ragged 
and  without  shoes.  How  different  the  scene  among 
the  British  we  could  easily  imagine — rich  young  men 
seeking  reputation;  veterans  who  had  achieved  it: 
Major-General  John  Keane,  known  for  his  valor  and 
his  skill  on  many  a  field;  and  Sir  E.  Packenham, 
commander-in-chief,  favorite  at  court. 

When  our  troops  had  all  passed,  the  ship  Carolina 
weighed  anchor  and  sailed  slowly  down  the  river. 
'Jackson  spurred  his  way  to  the  head  of  the  column. 
The  march  was  of  necessity  a  cautious,  feeling-for 
ward  move,  and  it  was  nearly  dark  before  we  discov 
ered  a  red  coat,  a  line  of  pickets.  The  General  was 
eager  but  restrained  himself.  There  was  no  oppor 
tunity  to  issue  an  address,  and  this  must  have  weighed 
upon  him.  In  order  not  to  expose  to  British  view  his 
meager  force,  he  resolved  to  wait  for  darkness.  A 
night  attack  is  a  desperate  thing.  All  rules  of  war 
fare  are  then  forgotten.  In  the  west  there  was  still  a 


288  "By  the  Eternal" 

glow.  We  waited.  Among  the  men  deep  silence  lay. 
The  British  were  led  to  believe  that  the  Americans 
never  attacked.  Nothing  but  the  actual  fact  could 
have  convinced  them  that  "one  Andrew  Jackson  Es 
quire,"  as  he  had  been  named  in  a  proclamation, 
would  rush  upon  them  in  the  night.  There  was  no 
moon.  The  cypress  woods  were  black. 

Mahone  whispered  to  me.  "Begorry,  she  may  be  a 
widow  again  before  she  marries  me.  Ah,  there's  a 
good  many  of  us  that  will  not  come  out  of  that  woods 
alive." 

Suddenly  there  came  a  boom  from  the  river.  The 
ship  Carolina  had  opened  with  her  guns.  "Forward," 
was  the  word  of  command.  I  can  never  recall  that 
night  without  a  shudder  of  horror.  A  British  officer, 
writing  of  it  long  afterward,  declared  it  to  be  one  of 
the  most  desperate  memories  of  history.  In  the  dark 
ness  and  among  so  many  obstacles,  nothing  like  order 
could  be  maintained.  Officers  and  men  were  jumbled 
together  or  scattered  wide  apart.  Jackson  and  his 
staff  were  on  foot.  We  could  discern  no  enemy;  did 
not  know  where  he  was  tilFa  sudden  flash  of  mus 
ketry  revealed  for  a  second  his  red  coat.  The  bullets 
whistled  above  us.  Then  came  the  order  to  charge. 
It  was  individual  man  leaping  forward.  Now  it  was 
a  hand  to  hand  fight,  friend  and  foe  almost  unable  to 
distinguish  each  other.  There  was  no  time  to  reload 
after  the  first  fire.  The  underbrush  and  dry  grass 
ignited,  blazed;  and  in  the  glare  there  was  many  a 
fearful  sight,  men  with  their  brains  dashed  out  with 
musket  butts — throats  cut  with  hunting  knives.  I 
saw  two  men  locked  together,  one  dead  of  a  knife 
stab,  the  other  of  a  bayonet  thrust.  At  times  I  lost 
all  track  of  the  General,  till  I  heard  his  voice  above 


A  Message  From  Washington.  289 

the  murderous  cries.  Twice  I  was  captured,  once  re 
taken  by  Coffee's  men  and  once  escaped  by  seizing  a 
momentary  advantage — by  knocking  down  my  guard, 
with  a  leap  out  into  the  dark. 

Only  a  few  groups  of  our  men  were  engaged  in 
this  fight.  The  most  of  them  were  scattered  through 
the  woods,  and  unable  to  distinguish  friend  from 
enemy,  were  afraid  to  fire.  The  knotted  battle — this 
murder  in  the  dark,  lasted  about  an  hour  and  a  half, 
and  while  we  could  not  claim  victory  to  any  great 
sense  of  advantage,  yet  our  army  bivouaced  closer  to 
the  enemy's  headquarters  that  night  than  had  we  not 
attacked  him.  This,  however,  was  but  a  brief  state 
ment  of  our  case.  The  argument  was  to  follow, 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

TWENTY-FIVE  MINUTES. 

I  SHALL  give  from  recollection,  rather  than  from 
notes,  only  a  brief  account  of  a  battle  so  well 
known  to  the  school  boy — only  a  few  glimpses 
mainly  to  catch  sight  of  Jackson 's  character,  here  and 
there,  as  he  flashed  its  different  aspects. 

In  the  morning,  Jackson  began  to  fortify  his  posi 
tion.  Some  Frenchman  suggested  cotton  bales.  Ac 
cepted  in  a  moment.  A  ship  near  by  was  unloaded 
and  the  bales  of  cotton  erected  into  a  wall.  An  easy 
rampart  to  build.  The  enemy  used  hogsheads  of 
sugar.  Both  schemes  totally  failed.  But  cotton  was 
not  accepted  as  a  complete  defense.  Earth  works 
were  thrown  up — mud  works,  for  the  soil  was  soft. 
Jackson  was  here,  there,  everywhere  up  and  down  the 
one  mile  of  his  battle-front.  He  said  to  me: 

"Here  is  where  I  forfeit  my  life  if  I  do  not  suc 
ceed.  Defeat,  and  that  trench  is  to  be  my  grave. 
Fail!  By  the  Eternal,  we  cannot  fail.  It  is  impos 
sible,  sir." 

Doubtless  a  world-educated  soldier  would  have  re 
garded  failure  as  lying  somewhere  within  the  broad 
domain  of  chance.  With  what  reinforcements  had 
come  up  our  force  was  still  below  three  thousand, 
and  to  Napoleon  or  Wellington  it  might  have  seemed 
at  least  barely  possible  for  an  army  of  more  than 
three  times  our  number — the  best  disciplined  soldiers 

290 


Tiventy-five  Minutes.  291 

in  the  world — seemed  this  side  the  miraculous  that 
they  might  overcome  these  backwoodsmen. 

In  the  night  attack  I  had  lost  sight  of  Mahone,  as 
I  did  of  every  one  and  everything  else,  and  I  was 
anxious  concerning  him,  till  I  found  him  the  next 
morning  sitting  on  a  log.  "Ah,  and  it  is  you,  is  it 
Richard,"  he  cried.  "A  fine  lad  to  give  me  such  a 
scare  about  yourself.  I  didn't  know  what  had  be 
come  of  you.  I  should  know  better  than  to  stray  off 
that  way.  There  is  going  to  be  some  business  tran 
sacted  here  very  soon.  Before  I  forget  it  let  me  say 
that  I've  just  had  a  letter  from  Arabella;  and  for 
the  purposes  of  modest  display  she  wants  to  know 
something  about  my  ancestral  roof.  Begorry,  I  re 
member  once,  when  we  couldn't  pay  the  rent,  the 
landlord  had  the  roof  taken  off  so  that  it  would  rain 
in  on  us;  and  I  have  sent  her  that  gratifying  intel 
ligence.  Well,  lad,  either  one  way  or  another  this 
will  soon  be  over." 

Along  toward  noon,  a  number  of  dispatches  were 
brought  to  the  General.  He  considered  them  briefly, 
put  them  aside  as  soon  as  he  could,  and  long  and  lov 
ingly  held  in  his  hand  a  letter  from  his  wife.  "She 
sends  her  love  to  you,  Richard,"  he  said.  "Noblest 
creature  on  the  earth,"  he  mused  aloud.  "God  was 
kind  to  the  world  when  your  tender  soul  was  cre 
ated." 

It  has  always  been  a  wonder  to  me  that  the  British 
permitted  us,  unmolested,  to  construct  our  long  line 
of  works.  Undoubtedly,  they  were  totally  ignorant  of 
our  strength,  and  were  waiting  for  reinforcements 
and  heavier  cannon  from  the  ships.  Keane  may  have 
been  a  brilliant  soldier,  as  Europe  had  proclaimed 
him,  but  on  this  day  he  was  blind. 


292  "By  the  Eternal." 

What  a  hearse  of  time,  even  active  war !  The  days 
dragged.  On  the  twenty-seventh,  three  days  after  the 
battle  of  the  night,  Jackson  had  not  slept  a  moment. 
His  longest  pause  from  activity,  it  seemed  to  me,  was 
while  he  held  his  wife's  letter  in  his  hand.  It  has 
been  asserted,  and  it  is  true,  that  not  during  four 
nights  did  he  lie  down  to  sleep,  this  gaunt  man;  nor 
did  he  sit  down  to  a  meal.  But  he  appeared  more 
vigorous  as  the  time  of  trial  drew  near.  He  was 
more  cheerful  than  I  had  ever  known  him ;  exchanged 
pleasantries  with  the  men  as  he  rode  up  and  down  the 
line,  calling  many  of  them  by  name.  "See  that  you 
keep  your  flint  well  picked,  old  Bill  Brown.  You've 
shot  many  a  squirrel's  eye  out.  See  that  you  give  it 
to  that  old  fox  squirrel,  Red  Coat,  between  his  two 
eyes.  Glad  to  see  you,  Parson  Atcherson.  In  case 
you  forget  your  calling  and  grab  a  musket,  grab  a 
good  one." 

The  little  Carolina  did  great  work,  continuously 
raking  the  enemy,  and  this  is  no  doubt  the  reason  why 
Jackson's  work  on  his  line  of  defense  was  allowed 
to  proceed  without  molestation.  Now  it  was  obvious 
that  all  attention  would  be  concentrated  against  our 
"navy,"  strengthened  by  the  Louisiana,  a  still  smaller 
vessel,  which  was  anchored  several  miles  further  up 
the  river.  Large  guns  and  furnaces  for  heating  shot 
were  brought  from  the  ships  during  the  night  of  the 
twenty-sixth,  and  planted  on  the  levee.  This  meant 
that  it  was  all  over  with  the  brave  little  craft.  She 
was  blown  so  nearly  out  of  the  water  with  the  first 
few  discharges  from  the  enemy,  and  was  set  on  fire 
in  so  many  places,  that  she  was  abandoned. 

A  loud  cheer  in  the  British  ranks  told  us  that  the 
court  favorite,  Sir  Edward  Packenham,  had  arrived 


Twenty -five,  Minutes.  293 

to  assume  command.  Through  a  battered  telescope 
Jackson  observed  it  all.  Sir  Edward  soon  decided  to 
"feel"  of  us,  and  it  cost  him  the  lives  of  fifty  of  his 
men.  Then  he  withdrew  and  spent  the  time  in  con 
sultation  with  his  officers.  Although  his  advance  had 
been  met  with  such  opposition,  and  although,  as  one 
of  his  officers  afterward  wrote,  he  was  given  an  exhi 
bition  of  the  finest  artillery  work  he  had  ever  seen, 
yet  he  and  his  advisers  continued  to  hold  the  Ameri 
cans  in  contempt,  believing  that  they  were  only  wait 
ing  for  an  opportunity  to  run  home. 

Jackson  continued  to  strengthen  the  weak  places 
along  his  line;  continued  to  cheer  his  men.  Had  Sir 
Edward  met  this  "Andrew  Jackson  Esquire"  he 
would  have  smiled.  The  General's  boots  were  rusty, 
his  cloak  almost  thread-bare,  his  general  appearance, 
to  the  eye  that  does  not  search  for  the  soul,  anything 
but  "victorious."  But  we  who  knew  him  could  see 
victory  in  his  countenance. 

Headquarters  were  in  a  mansion  house  about  two 
hundred  yards  from  the  breastwork,  and  here  at  the 
window  the  General  would  stand,  with  the  battered 
telescope,  viewing  the  enemy.  New  Year's  day.  We 
had  eaten  breakfast.  The  General  was  at  the  window. 
Suddenly  there  came  a  bombardment  and  a  crash. 
Two  batteries  had  opened  on  the  mansion,  and  with 
in  a  few  moments  it  was  almost  a  mass  of  ruins.  Our 
escape  was  miraculous. 

The  long  season  of  silence  between  the  army  was 
to  end.  "It  will  be  a  cock-fighting  from  now  on," 
said  Mahone,  looking  out  over  the  plain  lying  be 
tween  the  two  armies.  "And  in  my  opinion  we're  as 
well  heeled  as  we'll  ever  be." 

"We  had  ten  guns  in  position  to  rake  this  "review 


294  "By  th 

ground."  The  artillery  men  were  ready,  with 
matches  lighted.  The  hair-triggers  of  the  riflemen 
were  set.  The  enemy's  batteries,  thirty  heavy  guns, 
opened  fire.  It  was  instantly  returned.  Our  cotton 
bales  were  tumbled  about  and  many  of  them  set  on 
fire.  The  smoke  was  blinding. 

The  thunder  was  so  great  it  seemed  that  the  river 
was  to  be  shaken  out  of  its  banks.  We  could  not,  on 
account  of  the  smoke,  observe  the  effect  of  our  work ; 
but  we  knew  that  the  artillerymen  fired  a  cannon  with 
the  precision  of  a  squirrel  rifle.  Along  toward  noon 
the  enemy's  fire  began  to  slacken,  then  ceased.  The 
first  sight  of  the  result  of  our  splendid  work  caused 
a  shout  from  every  American  throat.  The  British 
batteries  had  been  demolished.  The  sailors  were  flee 
ing  to  the  rear.  Old  Hickory  smiled.  "Everything 
is  going  well,"  he  said.  We  waited  for  a  renewal  of 
the  attack — waited  four  days.  On  the  second  day  we 
were  reinforced  by  two  thousand  Kentuckians,  rag 
ged,  barefooted,  and  for  the  most  part,  unarmed.  A 
little  later  the  British  were  strengthened  by  sixteen 
hundred  soldiers  fresh  from  victory  in  Europe.  Then 
fell  another  lull.  The  quiet  was  so  suspicious  that 
we  feared  a  new  design  upon  the  city,  a  counter  move 
ment.  But  reconnoissance  proved  this  anxiety  to  be 
groundless.  The  enemy  was  resting,  still  in  the  en 
joyment  of  his  contempt.  It  was  now  known  that 
Packenham  would  storm  the  works. 

Eighth  of  January.  At  one  o'clock  Old  Hickory 
left  his  couch,  and  strode  up  and  down  the  lines. 
"They  will  be  upon  us  soon,"  he  said  as  cheerfully 
as  if  he  looked  forward  to  the  visit  of  a  friend.  Day 
light  lagged  in  mist.  Up  into  the  slowly  yellowing 
air  a  rocket  sped.  It  was  the  Britains  signal  for  the 


Twenty-five  Minutes.  295 

storm.  The  mist  flew  like  a  cloud,  the  sun  came  out ; 
and  then  I  stood  in  wrapt  astonishment — at  the  mag 
nificent  demonstration  on  the  plain.  I  had  never  be 
fore  seen  a  real  army,  "accoutered  with  dazzle"  and 
moving  like  the  perfection  of  some  great  mathematical 
design.  The  gallant  General  Gibbs  was  in  the  van  of 
this  majestic  tread,  he  and  his  men  all  too  confident, 
contempt  within  their  hearts.  The  guns  opened  fire, 
the  small  arms  were  held  in  reserve.  Was  there  ever 
such  needless  slaughter !  A  great  guri  doubly  charged 
and  crammed  to  the  muzzle  with  musket  balls  belched 
forth  its  tide  of  death,  and  mowed  them  down  like 
grass.  But  re-forming,  still  they  came,  until  within 
the  rifle's  reach  and  then  they  reeled,  and  those  who 
had  not  fallen,  turned  and  fled.  Their  commander 
strove  in  vain  to  rally  them;  stormed,  begged,  hacked 
at  them  with  his  sword,  there  within  full  view  and 
easy  shot  of  us.  But  bravery  threw  its  spell  and  no 
sharp-eyed  rifleman  drew  a  bead  on  him. 

Then  came  the  praying  Highlanders,  dreaded  nine 
ty-third,  with  bagpipes  that  had  urged  them  on  to 
many  a  victory.  Old  coon-skin  cap,  old  homespun 
from  the  woods  sighted  long,  and  then  upon  the  word 
let  fly  his  lead.  Five  hundred  of  the  Scotchmen  fell ; 
the  others,  halting,  stood  a  glittering  mark,  received 
another  fire,  and  then  the  remnant  broke  and  in 
panic  flew.  Up  dashed  Sir  Edward,  shouting  brave 
words — and  fell  to  shout  no  more.  It  had  been  just 
twenty-five  minutes  since  the  first  fire,  and  the  British 
army  was  riddled.  A  thousand  insults,  the  burning 
of  Washington  had  been  avenged.  Old  Jackson  looked 
out  over  the  scene,  at  the  flying  enemy,  at  the  ground 
covered  with  the  slain.  His  hat  was  off  and  on  his 
head  I  saw  a  scar,  the  saber  cut  of  so  many  years  ago. 
England  had  paid  for  it  with  her  best  blood. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

CONCLUSION. 

1HAVE  no  disposition  to  linger  over  the  scenes 
that  followed;  the  exultation,  the  wild  joy  in 
New  Orleans.  The  war  was  done,  the  treaty  had 
been  signed — which  we  did  not  know — and  Jackson 
was  to  be  an  idol  not  only  in  his  own  state  but  of  the 
nation.  A  new  world-man  had  arrived.  We  were  to 
linger  for  some  time  in  this  delivered  city,  long 
enough  for  the  General  to  issue  an  address  or  two, 
engage  in  a  personal  encounter  and  to  play  Cromwell 
with  the  legislature.  Mahone  requested  leave  to  de 
part  for  home  in  advance,  assuring  the  General  that 
he  had  some  rather  important  business  to  transact, 
and  permission  was  granted  him. 

"Richard,"  said  he,  "I  should  like  very  much  for 
you  to  be  at  the  only  wedding  I've  ever  had,  and  we 
will  wait,  but  if  you  halt  for  old  hero  there's  no  tell 
ing  when  you  '11  be  back. ' ' 

I  accompanied  him  on  his  way  an  hour's  ride  and 
returned  to  the  city,  now  the  gayest  place  on  the  con 
tinent;  but  this  life,  this  constant  flattery  meant 
nothing  to  me.  I  longed  to  buy  an  estate  on  the  Cum 
berland  river;  to  build  a  house  after  my  own  notion, 
and — that  was  as  far  as  I  could  see.  Time  had  been 
dragging  while  we  were  in  the  Creek  War,  while  we 
were  under  arms  facing  the  British,  but  it  had  been 
flying,  too.  Since  first  I  came  across  the  hills  of  East 
Tennessee  the  yearg  had  passed. 

296 


Conclusion.  297 

It  was  a  great  pleasure  when  the  General  announced 
his  intention  to  visit  his  home.  The  journey  was  too 
triumphal  a  progress  to  be  expeditious.  Man  had  a 
new  hero  and  demanded  the  right  not  only  to  look 
upon  him  but  to  take  him  by  the  hand.  Negroes 
fought  one  another  for  the  privilege  of  leading  his 
horse. 

Nashville  was  more  than  wild ;  it  was  mad  with  en 
thusiasm.  But  the  General  did  not  halt  to  receive  or 
to  deliver  addresses;  his  desire  now  was  to  reach  his 
home  and  there  to  await  orders  from  the  War  De 
partment,  for  he  was  still  of  the  army.  When  we 
came  within  sight  of  the  Hermitage  and  looked  upon 
the  dark  mass  of  people  gathered  there,  he  remarked 
to  me: 

' '  I  now  feel,  sir,  that  I  am  entitled  to  a  few  days  of 
rest  and  of  quiet;  but  I  do  not  see  that  either  is 
waiting  for  me. ' ' 

Neither  could  I  see  it.  I  knew,  as  he  must  have 
known,  that  the  sun  of  his  fame  was  just  now  fairly 
ablaze,  over  the  hill;  that  the  voice  of  the  Nation 
would  call  him. 

The  weather  was  pleasant  for  the  time  of  year,  and 
a  great  dinner  was  served  on  the  lawn.  I  looked 
about  for  Mahone,  but  did  not  find  him  until  rather 
late  in  the  afternoon.  Then,  with  Arabella  beside 
him  in  a  buggy,  he  drove  up  to  the  gate.  "Arrah," 
he  cried,  ''it  is  yourself,  is  it?  And  you  were  smart 
enough  to  give  us  the  slip.  Arabella,  my  dear,  jump 
out  like  the  feather  you  are."  He  caught  her  in  his 
arms  as  she  sprang  from  the  buggy.  "Kiss  her,"  he 
said  to  me — "kiss  her  that  was  and  is — Mrs.  Daniel 
Mahone.  Yes,  we  were  married  a  month  ago,  and  a 


298  "By  the  Eternal" 

happier  pair  I  have  never  seen.  You  may  kiss  her 
again  if  she  don't  object,  and  I  know  she  won't." 

There  was  no  conjecture  now  as  to  the  state  of  Ara 
bella 's  mind.  For  the  first  time  her  every  look,  tone, 
word,  seemed  genuine.  ' '  Oh,  I  thank  you  so  much  for 
sending  him  back  to  me,"  she  said. 

"But  I  didn't  send  him,"  I  answered.  "He  wanted 
to  come  and  the  General  granted  him  leave." 

"Still  the  same  old  bush-beating  Richard,"  she  re 
plied.  "Wretch,  don't  you  remember  having  saved 
this  life  in  the  night  attack?" 

"I  do  not.  But  I  did  a  good  deal  of  running  on 
that  occasion,  and  I  might  have  run  over  some  one 
that  was  close  after  him." 

"Listen  to  the  vain  boaster,  will  you!"  cried  Ma- 
hone.  ' '  But  come,  let  us  get  inside.  Since  taking  up 
my  abode  amid  luxuries,  I  don't  like  the  edge  of  this 
cutting  wind." 

It  was  a  long  time  that  night  before  we  were  per 
mitted  to  sit  in  quiet  about  the  fire-side ;  and  when  at 
last  this  boon  was  granted  us — the  General,  his  wife 
and  me — it  was  good  to  see  the  warrior  rest,  in  his 
easy  rocking  chair.  The  cool  wind  whistling  about 
the  house,  the  comfort  within,  the  fire  muttering,  ex 
erted  their  soothing  influence,  and  the  soldier  slept. 

' '  This  is  the  first  opportunity  to  tell  you  the  news, ' ' 
said  Mrs.  Jackson,  speaking  in  a  low  tone.  "Nettie 
will  be  here  tomorrow."  I  started  up,  but  the  sad 
ness  of  her  look  restrained  me  from  uttering  a  word. 
I  waited. 

"Day  after  to-morrow  she  will  be  eighteen.  How 
time  does  fly !  And  on  that  night,  here  in  our  house, 
she  is  to  be  married.  She  has  yielded  every  point  to 
"Wilbur  and  his  mother,  save  one — her  determination 


Conclusion.  299 

to  be  married  beneath  our  roof.  'Riah  urged  her  own 
physical  inability  to  make  the  journey,  which  in  fact 
is  not  far,  but  Nettie  would  not  yield.  Richard,  I 
have  prayed — " 

' '  Don 't  shoot  till  you  see  the  whites  of  their  eyes, ' ' 
the  General  muttered,  then  awoke.  "Ah,"  he  said, 
"I  was  back  there  on  the  field  at  New  Orleans.  Mrs. 
Jackson,  my  dear,  I  believe  I  will  go  to  bed." 

"I  think  it  would  be  well,  Mr.  Jackson,  for  you 
must  be  very  tired,"  she  answered.  Her  Bible  was 
ever  handy  and  in  a  moment  she  had  it  in  her  hand; 
and  the  book-mark,  hanging  down  from  between  the 
leaves  showed  to  my  accustomed  eye  that  the  "po 
tion"  was  to  be  neither  the  "sling"  nor  "ram's 
horn."  And  conjecture  was  right,  for  shortly  after- 
\vard  I  heard  the  voice  of  the  gentle  woman,  calling 
him  down  beside  the  "still  waters." 

I  did  not  wait  for  her  to  come  back.  She  had  told 
me  enough. 

It  was  about  ten  o'clock  in  the  forenoon  of  the  fol 
lowing  day  when  Nettie  and  Wilbur  Page  drove  up 
to  the  gate.  I  did  not  go  forth  to  meet  them;  I  went 
to  my  room,  and  remained  there  until  Mrs.  Jackson 
sent  for  me  to  come  into  the  parlor. 

In  the  young  woman  every  promise  of  the  girl  had 
been  kept.  She  was  radiantly  beautiful.  Wilbur 
came  forward  and  shook  hands  with  me,  and  then  I 
took  her  hand,  looked  into  her  eyes,  and  had  we  been 
alone,  I  should  have  drawn  her  toward  me,  her  lips  to 
meet  mine  as  they  once  met;  and  over  me  came  the 
feeling  that  she  would  not  resist.  By  the  young  fel 
low's  air  I  could  see  that  in  his  belief  his  "authority" 
was  settled  into  ' '  divine  right, ' '  and  that  on  her  part 
there  could  be  no  resistance.  Still,  he  kept  a  sharp 


800  "By  the  Eternal" 

lookout  for  me,  I  thought,  sometimes  finishing  a  sen 
tence  for  me  when  I  addressed  myself  to  her.  The 
General  said  that  he  was  going  out  to  look  at  the  colts, 
and  inquired  of  Wilbur,  and  most  innocently,  too,  if 
he  cared  to  go  along ;  but  he  answered  that  he  believed 
not.  Nor  during  the  entire  afternoon  did  he  budge. 
But  my  mind  toward  the  girl  was  made  up.  I  would 
save  her  from  him  if  I  could,  presuming,  of  course, 
that  she  desired  to  be  saved.  However,  I  did  not 
wholly  like  her  humor;  there  was  not  enough  of  sad 
ness  in  it,  so  great  a  sacrifice  on  her  part  being  near, 
and  I  wondered  if  she  had  finally  learned  to  love  him. 
Night  came  and  still  I  had  not  spoken  for  her  ears 
alone — bed-time,  and  there  he  sat  by  the  fire,  in  his 
new  boots,  and  their  shine  angered  me,  for  much  of 
his  vanity  lay  in  his  foot. 

Early  on  the  following  day,  I  heard  some  talk  about 
the  county  clerk,  of  marriage  license,  and  my  blood 
turned  chilly.  There  did  not  seem  to  be  any  hope; 
but  in  the  afternoon  Wilbur  went  with  the  General 
out  to  the  meadow.  I  asked  Nettie  to  take  a  stroll 
with  me,  in  the  garden.  She  hesitated.  She  said 
that  the  air  was  cold,  and  it  was — becoming  more  so, 
it  seemed  to  me ;  but  I  saw  that  she  was  putting  on  a 
wrap.  Knowing  that  our  time  would  be  short,  I  was 
much  disposed  to  bid  her  make  haste,  but  when  I 
showed  impatience  she  reproved  me  with  a  light  in 
her  countenance  which  she  no  doubt  intended  for  a 
frown. 

We  walked  out  toward  the  summer-house,  and 
though  it  was  past  the  middle  of  March  the  air  came 
cold  from  the  north.  She  was  lively,  joking  with  me 
until  we  entered  the  summer-house,  and  then  a  sad 
ness  came  upon  her,  showing  how  beautiful  her  face 


"  YOU  SHAT.L  NOT!' 


Conclusion.  301 

could  be  when  serious.  She  sat  down,  I  beside  her, 
and  I  would  have  thought  that  she  sighed  but  I  had 
lost  too  much  hope  for  that  degree  of  self -congratula 
tion. 

"A  long  time  has  passed,"  she  said,  "since — 

"Yes,  since — our  lips  met,  in  the  candle  light,"  I 
boldly  broke  in,  and  she  finished:  "Since  we  to 
gether  saw  the  old  whale  that  swallowed  Jonah." 

"Ah,"  I  answered,  "and  on  that  day  a  life  was 
swallowed.  By  fate — my  life." 

She  sighed  now,  and  our  eyes  met.  She  was  won 
drous  calm,  for  her,  and  her  face  was  pale.  But  she 
smiled  and  said:  "I  haven't  yet  learned  very  many 
big  words,  as  I  told  you  I  would.  They  did  not  come, 
with  the  long  dresses.  I  like  the  simple  words  that 
called  us  so  close  to  happiness,  in  that  dear  time  so 
long  ago." 

"Yes,  how  much  sweeter  are  the  simpler  words — 
the  words,  'Nettie  I  have  always  loved  you  and  beg 
you  not  to  take  a  step  that  may  make  you  unhappy. 
We  were  born  for  each  other;  we  have  known  it  dur 
ing  these  years.  You  must  be  my  wife — you  shall 
not—'  " 

"Here  comes  Wilbur,"  she  said;  and  her  hand, 
which  I  had  seized,  fluttered  like  a  bird  within  my 
grasp.  She  arose  and  was  standing  some  distance  off 
when  Page  came  to  the  door.  "Several  visitors  are 
at  the  house  waiting  for  you,"  he  said  to  her;  and 
without  a  word  she  left  me.  Page  walked  off  with  her, 
having  merely  looked  at  me;  and  toward  him  my 
anger  arose,  as  it  had  arisen  when  I  slapped  Lis- 
mukes'  face.  But  I  was  just  enough  toward  him, 
with  all  my  boiling  blood,  to  know  that  I  had  no  real 


302  "By  the  Eternal" 

cause  for  violence.  He  had  simply  insulted  me  with 
a  look  of  contempt. 

When  the  candles  were  lighted  and  the  guests  be 
gan  to  assemble,  the  General  came  to  my  room.  ' '  Mrs. 
Jackson  has  just  told  me  something  which  I  suppose 
I  ought  to  have  observed,  Richard.  I  am  sorry  for 
you,  and  by  the  Eternal,  for  her — but  it  cannot  be 
helped.  The  southern  woman,  sir,  is  educated  to  be 
lieve  that  she  was  created  to  sacrifice  herself.  They 
are  nearly  ready.  Come  on,  Richard,  and  bear  it  like 
a  man." 

As  I  entered  the  parlor  Mahone  seized  my  hand, 
and  I  remember  Arabella 's  sad  face.  ' '  Here  is  Chap 
lain  Atcherson,"  said  the  Irishman.  "Knowing  that 
he  would  be  welcome  to  all  concerned,  I  took  it  upon 
myself  to  invite  him." 

Everything  seemed  to  be  in  readiness.  The  clergy 
man  selected  by  Page  had  arrived.  At  the  parlor 
door  Page  stood  waiting  for  Nettie.  She  was  to  join 
him  there.  But  why  did  they  wait  so  long  ?  Sudden 
ly  Mrs.  Jackson  came  swiftly  through  the  door. 
"Miss  Blakemore  has  fainted,"  she  cried.  Page 
leaped  through  the  door  into  the  room. 

"By  the  Eternal,  the  wrong  physician,"  Old  Hick 
ory  roared. 

Arabella  hurried  after  Page.  "Arrah,"  cried  Ma- 
hone,  "if  there's  any  news  she'll  fetch  it." 

A  few  moments  later  Arabella  came  out.  "Nettie 
has  asked  for  you,"  she  said  to  me. 

I  must  have  run  over  some  one  getting  into  that 
room.  Nettie  was  sitting  on  a  couch.  She  bade  me 
sit  down  beside  her,  and  when  I  obeyed  she  turned 
her  glorious  eyes  full  into  mine.  "You  asked  me  to 


Conclusion.  303 

be  your  wife,"  she  said,  and  she  put  her  arms  about 
my  neck. 

"I  won't  stand  this,"  Wilbur  Page  cried  out. 

"Yes,  you  will,"  said  Old  Hickory.  "It  is  the  de 
mand  of  the  Eternal,  sir." 

Page  bowed,  and  without  uttering  another  word, 
strode  out. 

I  was  in  a  daze.  I  strove  to  speak — failed;  and 
then  I  heard  some  one  speak  of  sending  to  town  for 
"a  new  license." 

"Begorry,  that  is  unnecessary,"  spoke  up  Mahone. 
"I  have  it  here,  together  with  Preacher  Atcherson.  I 
did  not  think  the  previous  set  would  mature." 

Old  Hickory  took  my  hand,  Nettie's  hand,  and  said 
to  us :  "  This  gives  me  great  happiness.  Colonel  Ma- 
hone,  by  the  Eternal,  you  are  a  genius,  sir;  and  I 
wish  to  recall  my  reprimand  for  impetuosity." 

I  saw  Atcherson  standing  in  front  of  me — felt  a 
touch  upon  my  arm.  The  old  earth,  soloist  of  the 
spheres,  was  singing. 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


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